Phase 16
by cr0wznest
Summary: Rebellious Brittany Pierce moves into her uncle's mansion planning on a fresh start. She doesn't expect her new 'straight' neighbour to take an interest in her.
1. Start

**authors note: **I want to publish this first chapter just to see if you guys are interested enough for me to take it further. I really loved writing this so enjoy!

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Unlike her mother, Brittany S. Pierce did not tie her shoes before she left the house, nor did she clean up after herself. Her father however shared the same qualities as Brittany, but the blonde only realised this after he scratched her face after a fight. Brittany always used her nails for battle and her temper would rise in less than a minute if someone provoked her.

Sometimes her father would convince Brittany that she was adopted. That's when the real physical battles started. She wasn't even violent before that. Her mother wouldn't even stick up for her or try and stop her father from hitting her.

Brittany had brought it on herself though. Her constant mood swings (which are normal for a teenager, however Brittany's were heightened) and her need to defy her parents when they would tell her 'no' became a normal after school thing. She had friends that would sneak out at the age of fourteen and from then on she fell into the wrong routine. Not the type of a routine that involved toothbrushes against tiles or tea towels rubbing plates, no, the complete opposite.

So when Brittany kept rebelling, her father became physical and her mother became silent.

Its better this way, Brittany thought as her uncle's car pulled up to his mansion. She believed it was a mansion because she had never seen anything larger than a unit. Her parents were rich though, they were just never the type of people that liked to show off. Her uncle had picked her up early this morning and no 'goodbyes' were said – Brittany was happier that way. She never did say any form of farewell when she left the house to meet her friends. Brittany believed her existence around the house became just a mere insignificance. She floated around the kitchen when hungry, slept until midday and then jetted off to school. There was really nothing keeping her at her parent's house – she was just waiting for the day they kicked her out.

As she steps outside into the blistering heat (she isn't a fan of summer at all) her eyes flicker to the house next door, almost the same size. She notices it has a better balcony and miniature palm trees inhabiting the front yard.

"Ugh," Brittany groans, shading her eyes from the sun with her palm. She notices the FOR SALE sign perched out the front of the neighbour's house and prays that no religious family moves in because she plans to stay with her uncle for a while. He's the coolest uncle Brittany has. He's her mother's only brother and when Brittany mentioned what was going on at home in the car, he almost swerved onto the other side of the road.

He asked why Brittany hadn't told him before and she shrugged, not really wanting to explain herself. She wasn't innocent either and she simply wanted to forget about everything that happened in that tiny two bedroom unit with a cramped, bland yellow kitchen with no dish washer. It was all Brittany needed, just without the unwanted violence. She understands it was her fault, most of it anyway. Brittany had tried every drug her friends brought to school. She was kicked out two weeks ago, that was probably the best thing that ever happened to her. She never got along with the teachers and secretly wanted to murder her friends because she hated what they made her. Brittany wished she could go back five years at least and smile instead of scream.

"I brought it on myself," she mutters to herself.

That wasn't entirely accurate, but it was true in Brittany's mind. Brittany's father made it clear that he wanted a boy and he wouldn't shy away from saying it even after Brittany could understand words. From that day she had a fear of disappointing the man that helped bring her into the world, but it wasn't until her first day of high school; where she witnessed one of the head cheerleaders stick her middle finger up at her father after she dropped her at school, that Brittany knew there was such thing as defiance.

It existed in positive ways and in negative. Defiance helped people gain hope if it was for a good cause, but it also turned her father against her when she started settling in at high school, hanging around with the wrong types of people and hearing rumours of drugs being dealt under the bleachers.

Brittany didn't understand how those types of people she admired were wrong. In her father's eyes they were the scum of the earth, heading nowhere fast. Brittany however understood that maybe those kids in school who were frowned upon had difficulties at home. Maybe they were struggling with their own abusive father's and cowardly mother's. To Brittany S. Pierce if she saw someone smiling and laughing, she also knew inside apart of them was in pain.

"What was that kid?" Her uncle asks, carrying both Brittany's suitcases inside the house. Brittany's carrying her backpack with all her most loved possessions (which is not much) into the house and is utterly shocked at the extravagance. There's not one flaw in the house that Brittany can see. Her eyes gaze across the exposed beams on the ceiling and as she follows her uncle into the living room, she almost cries at house huge the flat screen is. That's what she's planning to do this summer. Besides go driving in one of her uncle's Cadillac's.

"Hungry?"

"Fuck no," Brittany walks up the stairs, "I'm starving myself until I get to take sky blue out for a spin."

Her uncle's laughter echoes through the house. "You can't keep saying that every time you see me."

"I have and I will," Brittany replies with a smirk, continuing up the staircase.

The man shakes his head grinning, "Your room is the second on the left," he shouts.

Brittany opens the door to her new room and almost cries again. Obviously not because she's a sensitive little bitch, but the bed is humongous and there's a generous sized balcony for her to smoke on or spit on people that drive or walk passed. She can even egg her neighbour's home because no one's living in there at the moment. The new neighbours will get a welcomed surprise when they arrive, Brittany thinks, smirking to herself as she leans on the ledge of the balcony – although she better not do anything stupid; since her uncle offered to take her in and trusts her. Her ribs ache still as she bends over to rest her head on the ledge. She stares into the distance, lifting her shirt up occasionally just to feel her past which was in the shape of a lake stretching across two counties, but it now resembles a small baby pool with colours of pink and yellow in it.

There's nothing worse than having your past imprinted on your skin. Brittany hopes the bruise will fade permanently before she has to find a job.

X

Of course the winter made her bones ache and the summer wasn't too much better. She hasn't left the house, uncaring of the world outside her door. She hasn't even seen the new neighbours next door that moved in a year ago. Her eyes haven't welcomed the constant change in weather and her ears haven't gotten used to the rap music her neighbour plays on repeat.

She's expecting her neighbour to be a single white male, aged about thirty. However the lack of testosterone in the voice of her neighbour causes Brittany's nose to scrunch. She leans up from her bed and pulls her curtain back slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious neighbour from her bedroom window. Unfortunately when the neighbours moved in, they replaced the midget palm trees for giant ones that are currently blocking the blonde's vision.

Brittany groans and slumps back into bed, re-opening her favourite book to where she left off.

She didn't realise how much she'd enjoyed living at her uncles (she never shows it of course) and the past year Brittany, although unsuccessfully, has actually searched the internet for job openings at local cafes and restaurants. One thing Brittany adores about her uncle is that he doesn't constantly nag her about getting a job. The second day of living there the man informed Brittany that she can either find a job or go back to school and although neither of those options appealed to the blonde, she decided that earning money working long hours is ten times better spending money learning long hours.

And since she's tried looking for a job, her uncle hasn't yelled at her for not having one; whereas if Brittany was at home with her parents, there would be a lot more kicking and screaming.

A door opening downstairs peaks Brittany's interest and she shoots up from bed, but this time she isn't so lucky. Her hair catches in the zip on her jacket and her neck kinks, effectively causing Brittany to whimper in pain (obviously not loud enough because her uncle doesn't rush upstairs to help). She tugs on the zip gently at first, hoping magically her hair will slip out and become shampooed and conditioned on its way.

Brittany groans, growing frustrated and pulls her hair up while attempting to drag the zip down. She can hear her hair battling against the metal zip, slowly tearing from her other tresses as the zip grips them tightly, with no hint of letting go. Brittany finally finds her common sense and answers it, opening one of her drawers and pulling out a scissor. She cuts a third of hair caught in the zip and eventually pulls the remaining strands out, throwing them in her bin before leaving her room finally.

Just as she makes it downstairs, her uncle closes the door and grins at her.

"That was the daughter of our neighbours, she brought over some cake," he explains, holding the plate of chocolaty goodness up to the blonde's nose.

"They're probably laced with something," the blonde mutters, taking the plate and smelling them closely. "What did she look like?"

"The daughter?"

"Um," Brittany becomes slightly embarrassed, actually wanting to talk about someone other than herself.

"She's your age I think," her uncle says with a slight smirk.

Brittany grows defensive. "Wipe that shit off your face."

Her uncle starts laughing, swiping the plate from his niece's hands and walking to the kitchen. He pulls out two plates from the drawer and offers one to Brittany, who is still standing by the front door with her arms folded across her chest.

"She has pretty brown hair," he runs his hands comically across his bald head, "dark brown eyes and a little bit of an attitude. From the looks of her I'm guessing she was a cheerleader," he rubs his chin, "but that could've just been the cheerleading outfit she was wearing…"

Brittany rolls her eyes and walks over to her uncle. "Why would she bring us cake a year after she's been living there?"

"Her studies have been, as she liked to put it 'ca-raaazy'."

"Right," Brittany answers monotonously. She picks up a slice of cake and nibbles on it before licking her lips. "Mm, definitely laced with something," she says while taking a large bite and retreating upstairs.

Since being kicked out of high school, Brittany felt the need to overlook every positive. She did not try to see beneath people's smiles, she just grew used to the fact that people were going to live their lives in a façade and she didn't have a right to tell them otherwise.

Her belief that everybody had a soft side was shattered after her parents gave up on her. She no longer understood love, even though she suspected her uncle loved her enough to take her in.

He may have done that out of pity however, or selfishness. Maybe he couldn't have children of his own. Brittany didn't ask questions; not because she was afraid to offend the man but because she didn't really care.

She didn't care about anything anymore; besides money. She wanted lots of it and she wanted to get out of Lima, out of Ohio and travel somewhere far. She didn't want to live in one place though, she wanted to keep moving.

And once she starts earning enough, she'll buy the first plane out ticket of here. Nothing is keeping her in Lima, nothing and no one.

X

Her sexuality is a curious infection. Brittany noticed when she was 15 that whoever she had kissed (girls and boys) would grow attached to her. They would follow her around like their shoe laces had been tied to hers or act as though that annoying finger trap thing that people buy in foreign countries was keeping them together.

Brittany secretly enjoyed the attention, but put on a 'too cool' façade. Boys that adorned letterman jackets had invented a nickname for her that she was never actually told. No one was her friend, not even the misfits under the bleachers that she'd talk too about depressing matters. She only ever had acquaintances. Brittany was secretly afraid that if she ever brought someone home that they'd take one look at her parents and tell everyone at school that she lived with aliens.

So when she did eventually become sexually active she was always in a park or the person's house when nobody was home. She never actually had intercourse with any boy and she only ever fingered girl's; whether they were on the cheerleading team wanting to experiment or book nerds wanting their first sexual contact to be with the same sex because they had a fear of long probing machines.

Brittany describing her sexuality as a curious infection was not egotistical at all, she was actually honoured people wanted anything to do with her physically. She never liked being taller than most boys or that her bones would protrude from her shoulders. She never admitted the fact that she was self-conscious (she didn't really have a mentor to talk too) because if she didn't like herself then how was someone supposed to love her.

She felt sorry for the cheerleaders who starved themselves to be perfect for their coach and try to win the attention of the quarterback of the football team. Her sympathy did not stretch far though, especially for her parents. They didn't lend support to her and she didn't even try to show them any in return. Not because her heart was made of stone and at any moment she would erupt and pull a knife out of the drawer with the intention of using it.

Brittany simply did not have emotions left for her parents.

Rejection had become a new term in her lexicon. She did not strive to regain her parents support or respect. Her life with them had not been the kind of life she would have chosen if she did have a choice. She wouldn't wish it on anyone. Although, she believes everything happens for a reason. Like that one time she decided to skip detention and found two football players hooking up under the bleachers, or the time her mom forced her to go to church just as she finished downloading the entire series of The L Word.

She had beat her conscious half to death that day, because while her parents were conversing with their friends in the church parking lot, Brittany pulled out a permanent marker and scribbled 'Unicorns Rule' on the side of the building, just big enough to be seen as people drive in.

So not only is her sexuality a curious infection, but she's also a Unicorn; the unicorn. But no one will ever hear that from her lips.

Brittany unzips the backpack on her floor and pulls out a permanent marker, twisting it between her fingers and smirking. She definitely feels like getting out of the house now.

X

Have you ever witnessed a panther having sex with a fox? If someone in the world ever has and also witnessed that panther and that fox give birth, they would notice that what is born from the two animals is Santana Lopez. She is smooth, feisty, discreet, sassy, collected and also 5 foot 5 inches of Latin attitude.

When her parents told her they were moving house Santana promised herself she would never change. She would keep her cool, calm exterior and accept any type of person as her friend. Unfortunately Santana wasn't moving to a neighbourhood where is acceptance was normal. Class and status mattered more than to the people of Lima Heights than anything else. It took a while to find the right house; mainly because her parents were perfectionists and wanted a Georgian themed home. Santana on the other hand preferred modern and simple, so when they found their perfect home in the perfect neighbourhood, the brunette's parents decided that half of the house would be presented to their liking and the other half Santana could do what she wanted to it (she's an only child).

Two walls in her extravagantly large bedroom were covered in posters of famous people and the other two had graffiti on them already. Santana promised her parents that when they move again she'll make sure to paint over all of it. She's certain they won't be staying in this house; it definitely doesn't scream forever. Besides, Lima Heights High school isn't anything to rave about. Everyone there is either in a club or team or a failing student.

She chose Spanish as her language subject (it sure surprised her parents) because she'd already familiarised herself with the entire language since she was little. Her Abuela taught her how to say random sentences such as:

'I will hit you over the head with this chair'

'Shame on you'

'Please pick up my dry cleaning or die'

'Let me shine your shoes with my own spit'

Santana had a relatively average child hood. She got along with her parents, never went through a rebellious stage, mostly because Santana's parents pay for everything she wants. So maybe her child wasn't exactly 'average' because most teenagers don't get a Lexus for their 16th birthday and most teenagers don't total it the following day.

She's happy her school is only around the block so she can walk. Although she'll have to join some team because her feet are sore from wearing heels and a lot of the cheerleaders get to wear comfy white sneakers.

And that's where Santana changed.

The first time she laced up those white sneakers and put on that cheerleader uniform her attitude changed dramatically (at school, definitely not towards her parents) towards all of the Glee club members, the nerds, the misfits, the jocks. She became the girl she hated at her old school. Of course it wasn't by choice; she was peer pressured.

Her heightened, bitchy attitude got her in the front of the cafeteria line, head cheerleader and the attention of the Quarterback. However, as much as any girl at Lima Heights would want all of that, Santana was different. She knew something was missing, something…real or maybe even someone.

X

Santana didn't believe that anyone lived in the house next to hers. Well, apart from one bald guy that bought way too much food from the grocery store for just one person. Santana thought he may be keeping someone captive in the basement so as always, she put on her cheerleading uniform, combed through her long, brown tresses and got her mom to whip up her famous chocolate cake.

She was hesitant at first so she may have spent about two or so minutes behind the fence in her own front yard, singing the chorus of her favourite rap song. She grew curious when she peered up to a window beside the balcony on the side of the house facing her own home and saw the curtain moving. Someone was definitely there.

Without a second though, Santana strode up to the front door and knocked. It wasn't long before the bald guy opened the door with a big grin and Santana immediately regretted her decision to meet the neighbours. She would have had to do it sooner or later though and her parents believed that one year living next to them was long enough time to avoid them.

"Um hi," she begins, holding the plate of cake in trembling hands.

"Hey there," the man says joyfully.

"I'm your neighbour and I thought since we just moved here, well not just," Santana laughs awkwardly, "it's been a year or so and my mum makes really good cake so here you go."

The man purses his lips and takes a long whiff of the cake as he takes the plate. "Thank you very much neighbour!"

"No problem," the brunette releases a long breath, "Have a good day sir." Santana quickly hurries back into the safety of her house and up into her room. Realising she didn't even ask if the man lives with anyone Santana sighs and slaps her forehead. She's glad it's Sunday though, she loves Sundays. Her ideal Sunday would be lying by the pool with a fruit smoothie and music. Now that she actually has a pool, that dream can be lived.

"Santana!" Her mom yells from downstairs.

"Ugh," Santana groans, throwing down her towel. "Yes mom?"

"Take Benny for a walk!"

Santana mumbles curse words under her breath because for some reason she thinks her Abuela will be able to hear her from the grave and send a roaring truck right through the wall of her bedroom.

X

One thing Santana despises about her neighbourhood is that each front yard has perfectly mowed grass. It makes her sick. She's decided to head down to her school oval so that Benny has a chance to run around and poop outside for once. Santana swears her mother thinks Benny is a cat.

When she rounds the corner of a building, ready to take Benny off his leash, the dog suddenly starts growling. Santana frowns, looking up to see the cause of her dog's weird behaviour.

Someone is defacing the building. Santana can't see from this distance so she moves forward, holding Benny in case he decides to attack. She notices the person is dressed in black from head to toe. They have a black beanie atop their head and part of a...ponytail…is sticking out of the hat.

"Hey!" Santana yells, hoping to scare them away. The person, well girl obviously, freezes and drops the marker. She pulls the beanie lower and runs the opposite direction, disappearing behind the building. Santana really wants to let Benny free so he can chase the culprit, but she decides against it. The girl was obviously not drawing some huge mural… Santana walks over to the scene of the crime noticing the black writing etched near the bottom of the brick wall.

"Unicorns rule?" Santana laughs. "Original, I like it."

Santana allows Benny twenty minutes of freedom until she walks him home (he drags her back). She decides to finish off her chores before she relaxes so that way she'll have less time hearing her mother nag her about her duties.

It's late that afternoon when Santana heads out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her waist and heads inside. She hears her mom talking, but realises her dad isn't home. She approaches with caution because the last thing she wants to witness is her mom flirting with the postman.

X

She's been debating a greeting to the neighbours for half an hour. Her uncle just had to go and make delicious cookies for them and asked Brittany to do the rest of his dirty work. She doesn't want to leave the house, especially for this specific reason. She's not great at holding conversations. In fact she's that person that leaves a long awkward pause after a forced laugh.

"Just go!" Her uncle insists.

"I don't fucking see why you can't do it!"

Her uncle grabs a tea towel from the bench and waves it in front of her. "I've got to clean the kitchen."

"Ugh," Brittany groans, grabbing the plate of cookies and storming out of the house. She shoves her feet hard in the grass and concrete all the way to her neighbour's front door.

Without even thinking Brittany slams her fist hard against the door four times before a woman opens it. She doesn't even acknowledge the woman staring back at her with a surprised grin.

"Oh hello," the woman says eagerly.

"Repayment for the cake," the blonde mutters. She shoves the plate at the woman's stomach.

"Uh, right…" A phone starts ringing in the distance and the woman turns around. "Oh sorry excuse me for a moment. Santana come and accept these cookies from the neighbour."

When Brittany hears a smooth voice answer the woman, she looks up and is met with a girl dripping wet, in a towel. Her hair is soaking, flipped over one shoulder and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips.

Brittany goes stiff for a moment, feeling extremely uncomfortable (well, horny). She ducks her head again as the woman leaves and the younger girl approaches.

"Looks yum," the girl, Santana, comments.

"I dunno I haven't tried them," Brittany shrugs, "they could taste like shit."

Santana laughs and that sounds causes Brittany to look up again. Although now, Santana is the one looking down, directly at Brittany's fingers; covered in black ink. The brunette smirks, causing Brittany to glare at her and grow conscious. She's never felt so uncomfortable, horny and vulnerable all at once.

Santana quirks an eyebrow and meets Brittany's eyes again.

"What?" She asks in a defensive tone.

Santana's eyes finally travel to Brittany's blonde ponytail and that's all she needs to confirm her suspicions. "Not only do you have black marker on your fingers, but you have some on your cheek too."

Brittany pouts and wipes her cheek. Santana laughs, reaching for something on the table near the door. "Let me get that." She steps forward, way too close for Brittany's liking(she likes it a lot) and draws a perfect line on Brittany's other cheek to match.

The blonde's normal reaction would be to slap Santana's hand away and tell her to fuck off. But Brittany is so damn intrigued and caught admiring the girl that she can't even speak. And because of that Santana takes another opportunity to draw on Brittany's face; only this time the blonde catches her hand in mid-air and pulls her closer.

"Don't, fucking, touch me," Brittany whispers sternly, punctuating each word.

Santana gulps. She hasn't been this close to a girl before; besides cheerleading practice. "You're kind of the one touching me," she whispers in response.

The blonde's eyes shift to her hand and it quickly drops by her side. "Take the cookies."

"What's your name?" Santana asks suddenly. Brittany rolls her eyes, steps into the house and throws the plate on the table by the door. She then turns and walks out, brushing past Santana on the way.

"Maybe we could be friends," Santana suggests lightly.

"Fuck off," Brittany tells her and hurries to her house. The brunette is left at the door giggling. That was fun, Santana thinks. She didn't even get the girl's name though so she can't even make a good nickname for her.

Although she does know one thing the blonde doesn't know she knows. Santana runs out of the house and catches Brittany just before she gets inside hers.

"Unicorns rule!" She shouts. The blonde halts in the doorway. Cringing at the way Santana said it; like she was trying to get under her skin. Brittany doesn't reply however, she just slams the door and heads to her room.

"Yeah they fucking do, you sexy asshole," the blonde murmurs as she runs up the stairs.

X

Santana does not consider herself a lesbian, whatsoever. She prides herself on how much attention she receives from the male species. It may have been for her firm ass or luscious lips or even her flexibility, but Santana knows it wasn't simply for her. She does not have the type of personality someone could fall in love with.

She flirted, seduced and teased boys at her old school. They would grow cold towards her because she wasn't 'easy'. Half the cheerleading squad at Lima Heights High were however, easier to get into bed. She learnt this at a squad meeting inside one of the classrooms of school. Unfortunately no one warned her about how much sex they were going to discuss so she sat there silently listening to other girls talk about their latest fling and would only voice her opinion so the other girl's believed she wasn't a prude.

Her list of lovers stemmed from the school's sports teams mostly. She didn't allow them inside her pants of course, but giving them blowjobs and hand jobs was something she excelled at and everyone at her old school knew it.

There had been tall blonde girls at her old school Santana found hot but that was just her natural instinct as a female to stick up for other females. She understood that some girls were yet to discover their potential hotness, but she didn't go around giving makeovers to them because how would that look to everyone else?

Yes, there had been many girls that Santana labelled hot to trot. But her next door neighbour (she really should have asked for her name) is beyond hot. Santana felt an attraction towards the girl as soon as she saw her standing at her family's front door. And half of that attraction was based on how the blonde girl stared at Santana. It almost…turned her on.

She's sure that it's just physical attraction though and her neighbour was probably just admiring her beauty. Who wouldn't? Santana thinks to herself as she lies in bed. Maybe she can go over there after school tomorrow and become friends with her (not because she wants to stare at her the entire time…) because she's a mysterious girl that likes writing graffiti on public buildings – also because Santana wouldn't mind looking at the girl again, but that's just because the blonde's eyes are like a cat's. She hated that the blonde was so attractive and engaging and also that she was kind of a bitch. But that's something they share in common and something that could start a conversation tomorrow.

Santana isn't sure how much she wants to know about her neighbour, because she could easily be in an arranged marriage with that bald guy living with her. Maybe she's not happy there…maybe Santana moved next to this girl to save her.

"What the fuck am I thinking?" Santana curses quietly to herself. She reaches over to her bed side table and twists the cap off her sleeping pills. Maybe she shouldn't take them tonight, because the more she thinks about Brittany the more she wants to stay awake and think about her some more.


	2. Bad Religion

**authors note: **Thanks everyone for the reviews, I love all your responses and hope you'll continue giving me feedback for future chapters! I wish I could hug you all individually but that would be expensive, so cyber hugs to each of you who favourited, followed and reviewed. You help me keep Brittana alive!

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Monday 8:08am

"Found a job yet?" Brittany's uncle asks when he wakes her up that morning.

"Nope."

9:34am

"Found a job yet?"

"Nope."

9:40am

"Found a job yet?"

"Nope."

6:10pm

"Found a job yet?"

"Nope. Found a boyfriend yet?"

"No –" Her uncle rolls his eyes and places a plate down in front of his niece. Brittany carefully strokes the food with her fork before digging in. She has this weird feeling that her uncle might drug her soon and take her back to her parents.

Just when she didn't think he would nag her about finding a job, he did. All day her uncle has been invading her space, looking over her shoulder and pulling her blanket off when she tries to get an afternoon nap. It is bad enough that she didn't get much sleep last night because of a certain gorgeous (and annoying) neighbour stuck in her head. Brittany both hates and loves the fact that Santana knows she is the culprit that tagged the school building. She loves it because Santana didn't seem to care at all, even finding her actions it humorous. Maybe the brunette finds Brittany interesting and she can tell Santana all the tales of her hard-core life in Lima Heights. A one-person audience is better than nothing.

At the same time Brittany wants nothing to do with the girl. She doesn't want Santana to think they're automatically friends now that they've delivered delicious treats to each other's homes like Santa's obedient elves. She wants Santana to be aware that Brittany isn't interested in making friends, enemies, acquaintances, love, war, anything! She wants her neighbour to be aware of her boundaries without actually talking to her.

A loud knock on the door pulls Brittany from her thoughts. She looks up and around the dining room; her uncle has disappeared. Maybe he's gone to answer the door. Brittany shrugs, shoving a carrot into her mouth.

Another knock howls through the house. "Fucking hell," Brittany whispers, sliding back on her chair and storming to the front door. The only person she can think of that would bang this loud is the tall, awkward, ex-virgin cheerleader she finger banged in the locker room of her old school.

When she opens the door however, her carrot nearly shoots up her throat and out of her mouth.

Santana is standing on the step in her cheerleading uniform, with her hands clasped behind her back, swaying like an innocent child asking their parent to watch an M rated movie. Brittany knows she has to explain to Santana she has boundaries without actually putting it in words. She decides that showing it through her persona is a better and easier way.

"What the fuck do you want?" Brittany asks. She's surprised at how low her voice is. She watches Santana's innocence disappear instantly and even notices the way she swallows slowly, as if she had to catch her breath for some reason.

"Well, um, yesterday you know when you, uh, c-came to my house," Santana stutters, "the cookies, they were um, real good…"

Brittany's right eyebrow rises as a response. "So? Of course they were fucking good," she answers proudly, taking responsibility for her uncle's baking skills.

Santana frowns. The blonde wasn't as aggressive yesterday. Maybe she's on her period or her sentence at the women's correctional facility was lengthened.

"Are you like fresh out of juvey or something?" Santana asks, less flustered than before, even cocking her hip out to show she has attitude aswell.

Brittany has no idea where that question came from. Yes, Santana had seen her defacing property that wasn't hers and yes she had attitude today but Brittany is only trying to make a point. She lifts her arm to rest of her elbow on the door frame.

Santana's eyes travel upwards to the blonde's bicep which is noticeable in the black tank top she's wearing. Santana gulps and her vision becomes blurry for staring too long. She looks back to her neighbour and forces on a smile.

"Can I at least get your name?" Santana asks politely.

Brittany is about to tell the girl to fuck off when her uncle screams from the other room. "Brittany! We're out of batteries and I need the remote to watch re-runs of Cops!"

Santana immediately smirks. "Brittany," she lets the name roll off her tongue, "suits you." The blonde sighs in frustration and turns around, grabbing her uncle's keys off the table.

"I'll finish your dinner for you," he says with a wink.

"I'm taking sky blue."

"Is that your dog? I have a dog too maybe they can chill," Santana suggests as Brittany returns to the front door.

"No, excuse me." At least she used manners, Santana thinks. Shrugging, the brunette follows Brittany towards the large garage, watching her press a button allowing the door to roll up. Santana stands idly behind Brittany, not quite sure if the blonde even knows she's still here.

Maybe if I ignore her she'll go away, Brittany thinks. She walks into the garage when the door is fully opened and steps around the three beautiful cars inside, making her way to her child hood love.

"Where are you going?" Santana suddenly speaks up.

Brittany almost jumps and knocks the Cadillac. "To the mall. Why do you care?"

"Oh!" Santana jumps in delight. "I have to meet my friends there, mind giving me a ride?"

The blonde scoffs, folding her arms. "No fucking way."

"Please Britt Britt," Santana moves forward with her hands in a praying position.

Brittany almost bursts out laughing at the use of a nick name; a really lame one. She just steps forward and points towards the driveway. "No."

Santana glares at the blonde, smirking a little. "I'll tell your dad you defaced school property for fun."

Brittany automatically feels a knot in her throat at the mention of her father. She knows Santana was referring to her uncle, but the girl shouldn't just assume that they're related that way. She wants to knock this girl out for bringing up old memories that Brittany's tried so hard to forget the past year, but how was Santana to know? Brittany won't let her in.

She steps forward, inching closer and closer to her neighbour. Santana doesn't back up though, thinking that she has the upper hand. When their boobs are just grazing Brittany speaks.

"I don't care who you tell, who the fuck you talk too and who you are, leave me the fuck alone," she says with force. Her words sting Santana, causing the brunette's breathing to falter. She blinks profusely and bites her lip, watching Brittany with a less intense gaze.

Without another word Santana turns around and walks out of the garage, down the driveway and across the yard to her own house.

"Little harsh Britt Britt," her uncle teases.

"Shut up."

"You aren't taking sky blue," he warns, "any other but that one."

Brittany sighs, nodding. She and her uncle swap keys and she takes the jeep he uses for daily tasks which is already parked on the street. When she starts the engine, she notices Santana on the other side of the street walking in direction of the mall.

She contemplates giving her a ride, but thinks that the brunette finally got the message to leave her alone. Is that what Brittany really wanted though? The blonde exhales a deep breath and drives off; hoping that the rest of the night will be peaceful.

X

It is raining by the time Brittany leaves the mall. It literally came out of nowhere. Brittany had worn shorts and a tank top to the mall, thinking that the warmth would continue into the night. She was wrong unfortunately and didn't have a jacket to cover up.

Brittany was optimistic about rain; she didn't cover her head with her hands when it rained. She enjoyed a shower with no water bill attached to it.

Throwing the small bag of batteries in the jeep, she rounds the vehicle and jumps into the front seat. She shakes the water off, most of it, tying her soaking hair into a messy bun. Her trembling fingers manage to start the car and she drives out of the lot, heading back the way she came.

Through the fogginess of her window and through all the tiny water droplets she notices a familiar red uniform. Should she stop? She managed to not bump into Santana at the mall; that's if the brunette actually made it there by foot. She should have got her boyfriend or whoever to pick her up. She's a cheerleader so she must be popular at school. Brittany could just be assuming things and for all she knows, Santana could have stolen that uniform.

Brittany pulls over, deciding finally that she would be a terrible person if she didn't get Santana out of the rain. She is a terrible person already though and what if Santana thinks that the kind gesture of giving her a lift home is a gateway into potential friendship? She remembers what her neighbour said in the garage and anger starts to build (not towards Santana though, Brittany's father). She turns the key in the engine and puts the car in park before getting out.

She had obviously been contemplating her actions for a while, because Santana is a fair distance away from her when she finally reaches the side walk. Droplets fall from her lashes and her chin as she stands there, watching her neighbour walk further and further down the street. She doesn't know why she hasn't called out her name or tried to catch Santana. The rain is distracting her; the way it feels on her bare skin and tastes on her tongue.

When Brittany lived with her parents she was never allowed out in this much rain. She always sat at her window watching as the sky and clouds became dark, anticipating the oncoming storm. Brittany hopes there isn't thunder to come now, because then she'll definitely have to chase after Santana in her car.

After she enters the Jeep again, Brittany begins shaking harder. She presses the heels of her palms against her eyes and sits there for a few minutes, while the faint sound of rain outside pelts against the windows, bonnet and roof. Slowly, after looking over her shoulder for any oncoming cars, Brittany starts the engine again and takes off towards home.

She feels a little bad about not picking up Santana, but if the brunette doesn't know she saw her then Santana won't have a chance to make her feel bad about it. Not that she would. Brittany is just assuming things again. Santana seems like she has a good heart, but those with good hearts don't last long before something horrible happens in their life. She's learnt from experience.

X

Santana has been sick for two days now. Her constant sneezing is starting to freak her dog out. She hasn't been able to go to school at all and one of her friends even had to deliver her homework. Someone has had to take over the squad aswell, with Santana's approval of course (even if it was via Skype).

Her puffy eyes are covered by large aviators every time her parents make her retrieve the mail or take out the trash. She's afraid one of the people at school will stop by or worse; Brittany might exit her house and die at the sight of Santana. She sniffles, plucking the millionth tissue from the box and blowing her nose. Santana wishes she had an endless supply of tissues so that she didn't have to keep asking her dad to bring her a box home on the way back from work.

"You can't miss another day of school Santana," her mom states, opening the door of her room slightly.

"I know, but I feel like I'm dying," she groans into her pillow.

"You're not dying Santana," her mother shakes her head, "but if you were we would have already been renovating your side of the house," she adds, shutting the door before Santana can respond.

She's planning to sleep for the rest of the night until she has to go to school in the morning. She doesn't mind school. She just doesn't want the squad to make fun of her red nose and frog eyes. Maybe instead of whining about being sick she should actually be proactive and make use of her time at home. Although she'd rather be sleeping and getting better, Santana decides that a soothing warm bath will ultimately make her the happiest.

She groggily gets out of bed and stretches before stripping off and grabbing her towel. She struggles to use her strength to turn the bath taps on, sighing in relief when she finally feels the warm water against her body as she sinks down in the bath, resting her head on the edge.

Her eyes close and her head falls back. Immediately the thought of her neighbour takes over her mind. She's complacent to approach the blonde again because of how rude she was about a ride to the mall. But something Santana said had obviously struck Brittany hard and she lashed out.

She regrets not driving her own car to the mall because then she wouldn't be sick now. Part of her wished that Brittany would have seen her walking there or home so the blonde could have felt guilty and offered her a ride. Santana doesn't think Brittany is the kind of person to offer people things; maybe from being taken advantage of in her past. Santana wonders what the blonde's story is and if there's a way to figure her out without getting verbally abused again.

She blows out a puff of air, feeling more relaxed by the minute (apart from the constant image of Brittany floating in and out of her thoughts). Unfortunately she forgot to bring her tissues into the bathroom so Santana grabs the nearest towel and places it over her shoulders. Brittany is an interesting person; probably the most interesting person Santana has ever met. She wishes she could get to know the girl more and not have small conversations with her ending in one of them storming off.

Brittany just needs time, Santana thinks. She's probably the type of girl a person has to be patient with. A new thought enters her mind; Brittany's sexuality. Santana knew there was something different about the way that the blonde stared at her the first time they properly saw each other. Her friends at school didn't ogle her or admire her looks. Brittany however, took her time while she looked at Santana and the brunette wondered what she was thinking as the silence enveloped their staring contest.

Santana of course was immediately drawn in by Brittany's cat like blue eyes and thin, curvy pink lips. She's never looked at another girl like she's looked at Brittany or even a boy. Even Brittany's attitude draws Santana in; like a moth to a flame or a policeman to Dunkin' Donuts.

X

"I saw your friend come out of her house this morning, she looked terrible," Brittany's uncle explains as he passes his niece a load of washing.

"She's not my friend and good."

"Don't you at least want to make one friend while you're here? Or are you just cool with us being besties," he adds with a wink.

Brittany rolls her eyes. "I'm fine being alone, it's better that way."

"For you or for everyone else?" He enquires.

"For anyone okay!" Brittany shouts. "She's better off not getting involved in my life. I don't want to have to explain to her everything I've been through a few months into our friendship and watch her cringe and leave forever."

"You're assuming she'll judge you for your past? Everyone has a past Brittany."

"Not everyone is dealing with my past uncle Kurt," she retorts, throwing the last few clothes on the sofa and walking to the kitchen.

Kurt sighs, running his hand along his balding scalp. He smiles, remembering when he was little and how his father reassured him he would never go bald because he inherited his mom's hair. He wants the best for Brittany, he truly does and can't help but worry about her future. Kurt grew up in a loving family and never had to worry about his sexuality at home. School however, was a different situation. Kurt didn't have the type of friends Brittany did, or even any at all. He was never the type of kid a person would like to be associated with.

In a way he understood Brittany completely. They both found it hard to fit in in certain groups and took time to find themselves. He had his father to lean on, but Brittany doesn't so he's trying his best to be there for her.

He decides that after Brittany has gone to bed he'll do a job search online for her and maybe even write her a sophisticated resume.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Brittany says as she walks back into the living room with a soda.

"Shoot," Kurt answers smiling.

"When did you realise you were gay?"

Kurt laughs. "Junior high I bumped into this kid in the bathroom. By the looks of him he had just finished jacking off in one of the stalls…"

"Please stop talking," Brittany pleads, her face screwing up at the image.

"Anyway," Kurt drawls out, "he told me that if I told anyone what he was doing that he'd throw me in a dumpster. Now I just thought this kid didn't want anyone knowing he masturbated in the school toilets but it turns out, after much stalking on my behalf, that this kid didn't have a girlfriend and he was always going out by himself to this bar out of town on weekends. After I found that out I approached him at school and asked if we could be friends. He didn't want to heart it of course, mostly because he was a jock and I was a nobody. So I threatened him, which wasn't cool at all on my behalf but whatever," he shrugs, "I told him why I knew he didn't have a girlfriend and every day at lunch he would sneak into the bathroom and go nuts, literally. He asked how I knew and I said because he's gay and liked to touch his own privates because he's too afraid to touch any other guy's."

"So he was like practicing for hand jobs in the future?" Brittany asks with a frown.

"Exactly! So he promised to take me to the bar he went to if I didn't tell anyone and we actually became friends throughout high school and he recently got married to a guy in France. I was invited to the wedding of course. I was actually his best man."

"Holy shit," Brittany breathes out a short laugh, "why didn't you two end up together?"

"We were just better as friends," Kurt replies casually.

Brittany watches her uncle's expression carefully. "You loved him."

Kurt stops folding clothes and clears his throat. "My one regret was not telling him," he looks towards Brittany, "so I don't want you to regret anything in your life; even if it's making friends with the neighbour. She could be good for you."

Brittany bites her lip in thought. Her uncle is definitely right. She could possibly regret a lot in her life if she doesn't take chances. She's positive she won't regret not making friends with her neighbour though.

"As if having her in my life will make a difference."

Kurt purses his lips. "You never know."

Brittany sighs, "I'm going to my room. Thanks for the chat."

"Anytime Britt Britt," he teases.

Brittany gives the man a warning look. "Sorry, sorry, only the neighbour can call you that, my bad."

X

Santana's bath helped a lot. She even felt better about the whole Brittany situation. She's going to attempt to befriend the girl and not back down no matter how hard Brittany tries to shut her out.

She puts on a tank top and shorts, runs downstairs to collect the rubbish and exits the house. When she finally reaches the end of the fence blocking her view from her neigbours back yard, Santana freezes. Brittany is taking out the trash aswell, dumping bag after bag into the bin until it's full. Santana takes a deep breath, drops the bag in the bin and approaches her neighbour with caution.

"Hey," she says timidly.

Brittany tenses immediately, not lifting her eyes from the bin. She didn't expect Santana to be up this late on a school night. She remembers her uncle's words earlier but decides that simply accepting Santana's friendship is the boring option so she should at least have a little fun.

"What's up sexy?" She says with a smirk. Santana halts on her neigbours lawn, completely dumbstruck. She can't believe Brittany is actually talking to her, with actual words.

"Um, e-excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"N-nothing, what's u-up with you?" Santana asks, trying to act casual.

Brittany laughs. "Let's cut the small talk." She steps forward so she's a few inches away from the brunette. Again she's surprised Santana doesn't back up. She pinches her lips together, eyeing her neighbour up and down and enjoying the sound of Santana's ragged breathing. "Why are you so desperate to talk to me?"

"W-what? I'm not I just…"

"Just wanted to get in my pants?" Brittany states boldly.

"Huh?" Santana looks genuinely shocked at Brittany's words. She gulps and lowers her head, not wanting Brittany's powerful gaze piercing her any longer.

"You keep trying to talk to me so I was just wondering why. Do you want to fuck me?"

Santana snaps her head up. "I'm not a lesbian," she states in a higher pitch than usual.

Brittany smirks. "Are you sure? Because I think you're into me."

Santana shakes her head repeatedly. "I just wanted to see if you'd be like to friends, I-I-I'm not a l-lesbian, no way!"

Brittany steps an inch closer, leaning down so her lips are hovering by Santana's ear. "Then stop flirting with me," she whispers, "stop wearing that cute little cheerleading uniform every time you're around me. I don't like being teased."

Santana gulps, her mouth locked shut. She doesn't know what to say or what to think even. The Brittany she's with now is completely different to the Brittany she met before. Maybe she's a twin, Santana thinks. Maybe the other Brittany is locked in the attic.

"I'll wear whatever I want," Santana replies shakily.

"Mm, I'm not protesting." Brittany pulls back and winks at the brunette, turning around and heading back inside her house. She leans against the door and lets out a huge breath. Santana made her feel so… "Ugh," she groans. At least now Santana won't be coming around her knowing that Brittany is just going to flirt.

Santana takes a minute before returning inside. She has no idea what the feeling inside her means. It could be disgust or anxiousness. It could even be a little pleasure. Santana has never had anyone talk to her in the way Brittany did or tell her to stop doing something because it gets them horny.

She feels a little proud inside, but she can't show it. She doesn't even know what just happened. Maybe it was better not knowing Brittany and not talking to her because Santana understood her feelings then.

When she enters her room she downs two sleeping pills. There's no way she wants the blonde on her mind tonight.

X

When Santana exits her home the next morning for school she doesn't expect her neighbour's Jeep to be parked out the front. She doesn't expect Brittany to be leaning against the passenger door looking like she just stepped out of a music video either.

Of course Santana doesn't move right away, admiring the blonde's long legs that disappear under black denim shorts. The blonde is wearing a grey loose tank top with studs on the front and combat boots cover her feet.

Brittany really doesn't know why she decided she'd offer Santana a ride this morning. She was so determined to get the girl out of her life by hitting on her that Brittany actually found it addictive and woke up excited to see Santana. It may be the way the brunette bites her plump lower lip when Brittany steps closer to her or the way Santana's chest heaves up and down when Brittany stares at her for too long.

She may as well make use of her free time until she finds a job.

"Get in sexy," Brittany orders lightly.

Santana glares at the blonde, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "It's Santana and no."

Perfect, Brittany thinks. When the brunette refuses her advances it makes this even more fun.

"The sky is going to shit on you if you don't get in my car," Brittany says monotonously.

Her choice of words causes Santana to snort a small laugh. She shuts her mouth tight and walks across her lawn, past Brittany and her car. Thunder roars above their heads and Santana is startled for a moment, before continuing down the street, avoiding Brittany's gaze.

"I'll have to walk with you if don't get in the car," Brittany shouts after the retreating brunette. She doesn't know why she said that…Maybe she wants to make up for not picking up Santana in the rain on the way home from the mall. No, she should go back inside and forget her neighbour. Santana is obviously too self-righteous to accept her offer even though she's been desperately trying to befriend her.

Brittany feels a few drops of rain on her face and she quickly grabs her jacket and a spare from her uncle's car before chasing after Santana.

When she's just behind the brunette, she holds out the jacket. "They should really give you matching jackets to go with that cheerleading uniform."

"They do I just prefer not wear it," Santana replies grumpily.

"So wear mine," Brittany offers again. Santana hurries her steps but Brittany manages to keep up. She rolls her eyes when Santana doesn't even turn around to decline her offer so she just throws the jacket and it lands on the brunette's head.

"What the fuck!" Santana squeals, ripping the jacket off her head. "Don't you have a building to write on?" She growls, stepping towards the blonde and shoving the jacket at her chest.

"Don't you have a neighbour to annoy?" Brittany retorts with a smirk. The rain starts pelting down harder on them and when Santana doesn't move (she's basically just breathing really heavily close to her neighbour) Brittany wraps the jacket around her shoulders and taps one of Santana's shoulders with her palm.

Santana's bottom lip is trembling and her shoulders are shaking violently and she can't move. Brittany frowns towards her neighbour wondering what's running through her head and why she isn't storming off. Brittany decides to talk again, realising that she has to reassure the brunette of her intentions.

"I'm not being your friend."

Santana narrows her eyes for a second before sighing. "Fine," she sends the blonde a challenging smirk, "but you have to talk to me when I talk to you."

"Fine," Brittany answers with a casual shrug.

"And stop calling me sexy," Santana adds quickly, "I'm not gay." She cocks her hip to the side and raises an eyebrow. That's the girl the blonde remembers from their first meeting; the girl that didn't shy away from confrontation (no matter how close).

Brittany bites her lip, feigning hurt. "Alright, alright. Have fun at school." She turns to walk away but Santana grabs her hand. It's cold and causes Santana to gasp.

"Sorry," she says, letting go of the blonde's hand. "Could you um, give me a ride?"

Brittany is still reeling from Santana touching her hand that she doesn't register what the brunette asked until she's poked in the shoulder. "What?" She answers defensively.

Santana frowns, immediately noticing the change in Brittany. Her attitude is back and Santana hopes that she won't tell her to get fucked and make her walk to school in the rain.

"Um, yeah whatever," Brittany replies flatly, turning around to walk back to her car. She hears Santana behind her, shuddering from the cold and part of her wants to keep the brunette warm or just leave her there and head inside.

"Thanks for this," Santana says gently when they're both in the car.

Brittany doesn't reply, she just starts the engine and drives. On the way to school Santana notices how soaked through Brittany's tank top had gotten from standing out in the rain. She licks her lips and squeezes her legs together, turning her head so she's looking out of the window. She rubs her own arms, realising that she still has Brittany's jacket on. She contemplates asking the blonde whether she should take it off or not but remembers how Brittany's mood changed.

They reach the front of the school and Santana grabs her bag that was resting at her feet. Before opening the passenger door, Santana turns to Brittany who is still facing forward.

"You're so confusing," she states. Brittany expression doesn't even change and Santana just sighs, shaking her head and stepping out of the car. As soon as she closes the door Brittany drives off. Santana heads straight to the locker room to dry off and when she takes off Brittany's jacket she notices a small unicorn head sewn on just under the collar on the back. Santana smiles, running her fingers over the obvious home-sewn job.

One of her fellow cheerleaders steps into the locker room and snorts when she notices Santana holding the jacket.

"Please tell me that's not yours," the girl teases.

Santana pouts. "What if it is?"

"I didn't think you were the type of girl to buy ugly, old brown men's jackets."

Santana scratches the back of her head. "It belongs to a friend. They let me borrow it because it was raining."

"Who? A guy?" the girl questions.

Santana opens her mouth to answer, though she doesn't really know what to say. The bell goes suddenly and Santana sighs in relief. The girl just waves at her and walks out, leaving Santana alone. She holds the jacket up to her nose and inhales the scent of it. Smiling to no one Santana places the jacket in her bag and heads out for practice.

X

Santana returns to the locker room at the end of the day to retrieve Brittany's jacket, but when she opens the door it's no longer in there. She immediately grows anxious and looks around the room to see if it had fallen out or somehow walked its way to the shower stalls.

She bends down, checking under all the benches before grabbing her bag and running out into the hall. The only person that knew she had the jacket besides Brittany was that cheerleader. She heads for the school oval and notices a few cheerleaders and jocks throwing something around and laughing.

"Its got like a dick on it or something," one cheerleader mentions.

Santana approaches them, completely furious and ready to tackle all of them at once.

"Whoa here she is we can ask her," the cheerleader from the locker room says with a smirk.

"Give me the jacket," Santana orders.

"Tell us whose it is!" One of the girls replies.

"What the fuck does it matter?" Santana questions, reaching out to grab the jacket. One of the jocks steals it and whips it around it shoulder.

"I think it suits me bro," he tells another jock.

"Santana, here at Lima Heights high we have a code. When you're on the squad you share everything with the squad."

"I've been captain of this squad for almost a year, you don't have to tell me the rules," Santana bites back. She leaps towards the jock but he throws the jacket back to the locker room cheerleader.

"It actually smells like the perfume my mom uses," she observes loudly. Santana's chest is heaving. She wants to smack each one of the cheerleaders and jocks right across their faces. Her eyes are starting to brim with tears; not because she's upset, but because she's angry and about three seconds away from attacking the cheerleader.

She pretends to look around the oval, folding her arms and subtly taking steps towards the girl with the jacket. Finally she manages to take hold of it, pulling from the girl's hands and hugging it to her chest.

"Aw does is mean a lot to you?" One of the jock says in a childish voice. Santana thinks over his question as she walks back across the oval. She'd honestly rather hang out with Brittany over her cheerleader friends any day. So yes it does mean a lot to her.

"It doesn't mean shit to me," she says turning her head towards the group.

"See you tomorrow Santana!" One of the girl's calls out.

Santana knows that to make it through high school you have to tell everyone what they want to hear; whether you're going against your values, morals, whatever. Everyone needs to be told that they look good when they really don't and if you show any sign of weakness people are going to walk all over you.

When she reaches the parking lot she notices a familiar car parked on the street. Brittany, just like she was in the morning, is standing against the passenger door. Only this time she doesn't look happy or in the mood to flirt.

"Give me it," Brittany orders. Santana gulps, handing the jacket back to the blonde.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. Brittany opens the back door and puts the jacket in the back seat. "They stole it from my locker Brittany I swear!"

"I don't care!" The blonde yells. "I didn't give it to you only because it was raining," she scoffs. "I trusted you to take care of it."

Santana's eyebrows knit in confusion. "It's just a jacket Britt…"

"It's not! You don't get it," she says loudly, shaking her head and rounding the car. Brittany didn't expect to reveal the real reason she gave the jacket to Santana. But she did and now she's let the brunette see her vulnerable side. Should've just let her walk this morning, Brittany thinks, starting the engine.

"Brittany, wait!" Santana yells from the side walk. She runs up to the car, hitting the window until the blonde finally hits the gas pedal. "You said you'd talk to me if I talked to you!" She yells hopelessly to the retreating vehicle. Santana watches the Jeep take off down the street and mentally berates herself for not keeping the jacket with her in her bag. But Brittany didn't have to give her the jacket in the first place. How could Brittany trust her so soon when she wouldn't even talk to her days before?

Santana is even more confused than she was this morning. There's definitely something going on with the blonde that Santana desperately wants to figure out. Normally she'd notice people acting strange and assume things, but Santana actually wants to know Brittany's story. She wants to know why Brittany acts the way she acts and talks the way she talks.

A drop of water falls onto Santana's cheek. She looks up and notices how dark the sky is turning once again. She runs home this time.


	3. The Thrill

Santana knows that what she's doing is wrong. It isn't the worst thing she could be doing but it's still high up there. She managed to convince the man Brittany's living with to let her in their house and talk with her while Brittany was out grocery shopping. She can't actually imagine the blonde pushing a trolley down an isle trying to choose with sauce goes better with pasta.

The man is very sweet and very gay, Santana realised. He offered her baked goods then admitted he could only talk for a certain amount of time because Cops was starting soon.

Santana wasn't really fazed that the homosexual man enjoyed a stereotypically manly show. Even straight men would most likely find themselves getting hot and heavy while watching that show.

"So what do you want to know about Brittany?" He asks, resting his perfectly sculpted chin on his hands.

"Uh, well," Santana didn't really think this far into the conversation. She just knew she had to know everything about Brittany whether it was from the blonde's mouth or not. "Who are you to her first of all?"

The man chuckles, instantly recognizing the hesitation etched in Santana's words. "No, I'm not an old guy interested in the young girl's," he says in an accent the brunette can't decipher, "I'm her uncle."

"Oh," Santana beams. "That's great!"

"What else did you want to know?"

"Well," Santana's eyes search around the room, "why does Brittany have such an attitude and why doesn't she ever really leave the house?"

"That's probably something Brittany has to tell you for herself Santana," Kurt answers softly. Santana notices something change in his eyes. He definitely knows something but isn't willing to share the information and Santana totally understands that.

She just believes that if she knows enough about Brittany and why she is the way she is, then she'll finally be able to stop wondering about the blonde. Santana doesn't want to end the conversation yet though, so she asks something hopefully a little less personal.

"Why doesn't Brittany go to school? Or is she home schooled?" Santana frowns.

"Brittany and high school," Kurt sighs, "they don't match." Santana doesn't ask why; she hates when people ask that a hundred times.

"What does she do when she's home?"

"Sits in her room," Kurt shrugs, "I don't really know what she does in her bedroom but I know it's not any of the usual scandalous teenage behaviour," he adds with a smirk.

Santana actually chuckles at the man. He's definitely entertaining and fun to talk too, but Santana has been here for just under half an hour and surely Brittany would be coming back soon.

Just before she stands up from her seat she asks one more question. "The brown jacket Brittany keeps in the Jeep, whose is it?"

Kurt's lips tighten in a thin line. "Her father's," he responds quietly, nodding.

Santana wonders if the man passed away. It's a logical explanation for why she lives with her uncle and not her parents. She doesn't want to ask anything more though; because someone prying into her private life is something she wouldn't be able to stand.

"Listen Santana," Kurt walks beside the brunette as they approach the front door, "Brittany is a very closed off person because she's never met someone who has wanted to stick around so if Brittany ever tells you things about her, you have to be willing to accept her and stay."

Santana nods, "I'm a really good friend."

Kurt snorts. "Is that all?"

Santana's face screws up as she steps onto the porch. "Is what all?"

Kurt shakes his head, laughing softly. "Nothing darlin'," he grabs his keys and locks the front door. "I'm heading out to get a massage, I have a big date coming up," he explains, winking at the girl.

Santana giggles. "Have fun!" Kurt waves his hand in the air as a goodbye and steps into one of his Cadillac's. The brunette watches the vintage vehicle drive off down the street until another familiar car grabs her attention. The Jeep pulls up into the driveway and Santana doesn't realise she is still on Brittany's front porch until the blonde is throwing curse words at her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Brittany exasperates loudly. "Again!"

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday," Santana replies innocently, shouting a little because she feels it's the only way to get her point across to the blonde.

"I don't need an apology, just get lost," Brittany demands firmly, carrying a few paper bags to the front door. Santana is about to cut in, saying that it's locked but realises that Brittany can't know she was in her house talking to her uncle.

"I'll help you with the bags," Santana says happily as she walks towards the Jeep. Brittany drops the groceries in her hands and slams a fist on the door.

"Jesus Christ Santana," she shouts, "you are so frustrating."

Santana tenses for a moment, but won't let Brittany win this argument. She's tried to be nice to the blonde but nothing at all seems to be working. "Okay look," she spits, turning around and marching up to Brittany. "Yes, I lost your jacket for like five minutes, but you're the one that trusted me with it when I didn't even think you liked me at all because you're so fucking confusing!"

Santana's heavy breathing causes Brittany to swallow hard, resting one hand on the door handle to keep her stable. She's never been yelled at like that before and the fact that Santana used swear words was even more incredible. She can't let the arousal consume her though, Santana needs to learn that Brittany can't be messed with.

"Wasn't that what you wanted?" Brittany arches an eyebrow. "For me to be your friend and trust you with my things? Why do you want to be my friend so fucking badly?"

Santana is lost for the first time in her life. She's always one of the first to raise her hand in class to answer a question but this question as got her stumped. There's nothing or no one that's forcing her to be Brittany's friend or to even be around the blonde. Santana is just drawn to her for some reason.

"Because," Santana shrugs, her breaths evening out again, "you're different to the people at school. They're all the same and I guess it's fun to be around a genuinely interesting person."

"How would you know I'm interesting?" Brittany glares at her.

"I don't know, you won't let me in," Santana spits. She watches Brittany's gaze soften and sighs. "You stay indoors on hot days and walk around outside when it's raining," Santana explains, a small smile forming at her lips. "It's weird, you're weird."

Brittany twists her lips and glances away from the brunette. "I'm not being your friend."

"We've discusses this already," Santana chuckles, "but you're doing a pretty good job at your end of the deal. You know, talking to me and all."

"Well you force me into it by showing up at my house uninvited," Brittany replies without that sneering attitude. She eyes the brunette up and down, admiring that cheerleading outfit once again, but hiding her approval well. "You know how much I like that cheerleading uniform, but I like you in your natural attire even better."

Brittany using big words is one thing that shocks Santana, but another thing is her openly admitting that Santana is hot without using that word or sexy. She hates that when Brittany is actually talking to her without yelling or verbally abusing her that she can't manage to string a sentence together. All she can do is stand there and watch as Brittany unlocks her front door and carries the fallen groceries inside. She remains on the porch as Brittany returns to the Jeep and carries the remaining bags inside.

"Is there anything else you need to tell me I'm doing wrong?" Brittany asks with a smirk as she leans against the door.

Santana didn't even take notice of what the blonde was wearing because she was too busy trying to invent a cover story. Brittany has a sleeveless black, over-sized t-shirt on and grey track-suit pants. Santana gulps as she notices the blonde's biceps again. They aren't overly noticeable, like a boy's, but they're still defined and sculptured. Santana can't help but lick her lips and squeeze her thighs together.

"What the hell are you staring at?" Brittany jolts Santana to reality and the brunette almost stumbles over.

"N-nothing," she stutters, shaking her head and regaining her attitude, "what the hell are you doing tomorrow?" She doesn't like swearing too often because she believes her mother and father will be able to hear her all the way from over here. Brittany brings out this side of her though and she won't admit to the blonde that she kind of likes it.

Brittany smirks. "N-n-nothing," she stutters, mimicking the brunette's earlier response. Santana glares at her and decides that trying with Brittany is a lost cause, so she turns on her heels and walks away. Just as she reaches her fence and hand pulls her arm and she twists around, her back hitting the fence softly.

"What do you want me to do tomorrow?" Brittany asks in a whisper, her hand still lightly wrapped around Santana's forearm. She leans in close to hear the brunette's answer.

"I just, I have cheerleading practice tomorrow," Santana clears her throat, pushing Brittany back by prodding her chest. "And since you love me in my uniform then I thought you might like seeing the whole squad practice."

Brittany places a hand on her hip while her other hand runs through her hair. She feels hot and the sun blaring down on them is only adding to her frustration. She catches Santana staring blankly at her again and she smirks. "I'll be there."

X

There were moments Brittany felt that Santana actually wanted her but she is proved wrong when she notices the brunette play fighting with some jock on the oval at Lima Heights High. Brittany managed to turn up two hours late to the practice but she didn't think Santana would care because the practice sounded boring and all Brittany would be doing is sitting and watching Santana order everyone around.

Unfortunately Brittany showed up at the very wrong time. Santana was not only looking hot with her hair falling over her shoulders in waves (which caused Brittany to tense up and hide behind the bleachers for a few moments to get the image out of her head) but she was also flirting with the jock, slapping him lightly on the shoulder and brushing her fingers across his chest.

Maybe Santana acted completely different around these people, her friends, and the real Santana came out when she was around Brittany. Or this could be the real Santana and if so, Brittany doesn't want to give her the time of day. She's sure practice finished a short while ago, because most of the girls are sitting on the grass or packing up. Some of them, probably Santana's minions, are hanging around other jocks. Brittany's eyes dart around the group, unfortunately always returning to Santana because the girl is so damn intoxicating.

She hates that she loves to watch Santana and that the girl won't give up trying to be her friend. She was even more surprised than Santana when she admitted that she trusted Santana with her jacket. The words spilled out of nowhere but Brittany didn't regret it when she saw Santana in her father's jacket. Unlucky for Brittany though, that's lead Santana into believing that she can be trusted by Brittany and that friendship between them is a possibility.

Santana looks pretty comfortable where she is however; with all her friends and minions that follow her lead and the jocks that fall at her feet. Brittany can't understand what it is that Santana wants with her. It could possibly be a plan she's set up with her friends. She could be some conniving bitch, pretending to want to get to know her but spill pig's blood all over her at senior prom. Brittany sighs in frustration, leaning against the bleachers and looking out on the oval. She hates that Santana makes her think and feel so much. She doesn't even know why she showed up at the high school, practice is over and there's no chance she'll see up one of the cheerleaders skirts as they fly into the air.

The blonde follows Santana's hand as it rakes up the guy's bulging chest and around his neck to pull him in. She whispers something in his ear and he smirks, running his hand down her back and tapping her ass. Brittany's fingers squeeze the metal bar she's leaning against and her blood temp rises watching the scene unfold before her. She really didn't think Santana was the type of girl to let a guy treat her like that because when she's around Brittany she's strong willed and somewhat independent.

Brittany pulls out a cigarette from her pocket that she found in a packet under the kitchen sink. Kurt was obviously trying to hide them from her and doesn't realise she knows he smokes like a chimney; when she's not around of course. When she lights the cigarette, she looks back up and most of the cheerleaders are walking in her direction. Some of them are giggling and staring her up and down. Brittany can't decipher the whispers, because she isn't paying attention at all. Her eyes are still focused on Santana and the jock; who is now picking up a large bag and walking off in the opposite direction.

Santana can't believe how desperate jocks can be when a girl pays them a tiny bit of attention. It wasn't her intention to keep flirting with one of them, but after seeing Brittany's Jeep pull up two hours late, something came over her. She wanted to make the blonde jealous and she has no idea why.

She could hear some cheerleader's behind her giggling about something but she paid no attention to them at first. Then one of them whispered 'dyke' and Santana found herself shaking slightly. She hates that word and she hates even more that they used it to describe Brittany. The blonde is so much more than her sexuality and Santana wanted to scream that to them, imprint it in their minds so they're able to see the Brittany she sees. She managed to maintain her playful attitude, convincing the jock he had a chance by whispering in his ear how big his muscles looked. She really couldn't believe how easy guys were to play with these days.

The rest of the squad had walked off, along with the jock in front of her and Santana finds herself alone on the field. She reluctantly gazes towards Brittany's direction and notices the girl half hidden under the bleachers. Santana grabs her bag and lugs it over to the blonde, dropping it to the floor and placing her hands on her hips when she's finally in front of Brittany.

"I used to take drugs under the bleachers at my old high school," Brittany admits casually. The confession throws Santana off and she frowns, but she's surprised it doesn't turn her off the blonde at all. "It was recreational and stupid, but it was fun during the rain, calming actually."

Santana admires Brittany's small smile for a moment before blinking and regaining her attitude again.

"Enjoy the show?" Santana asks with a smirk.

"Totally," Brittany replies, exhaling smoke from her lips. "Aren't cheerleaders supposed to wear their hair up though?" she asks in a casual voice.

Santana boldly steps forward, her gaze penetrating. "I'm the captain, I do what I want."

"Oh," Brittany sighs, flicking her cigarette to the ground and stepping closer to Santana. "So everyone does what you tell them too?" The brunette nods weakly in return, being a little thrown off by Brittany's chilled attitude. "It must suck that I don't."

Santana arches an eyebrow. "You're here aren't you?" It's Santana's turn to smirk when the blonde's smirk falters. She watches Brittany tilt her head down and scratch her head. Feeling bold, Santana takes another step forward, looking up through thick laches to grab Brittany's attention. "You'd probably do anything I want."

The blonde exhales a sharp breath through her nose. "You think so huh?"

"I don't want to get into another argument with you, so," Santana shrugs innocently, "let's just agree that I'm right okay?" She's laughing internally at how childish she sounds, but Brittany seems to be silenced so maybe it's working.

"Was that your boyfriend?" The blonde asks suddenly, completely throwing off Santana. Damn she's good, the brunette thinks.

"Nope, just a desperate jock," she says shrugging.

"Do you always let random guys slap your ass?" Santana steps back from Brittany, chewing on her lip because she can't believe how bluntly rude the blonde is being. She should have predicted it though.

"It didn't mean anything," Santana frowns, her annoyance building, "I don't have to explain shit to you."

"Now you know how I feel when you decide to play 20 questions," Brittany retorts, her stoic expression never changing. She takes a step forward, so Santana is no longer under the bleachers and notices small drops of water fall across Santana's cheeks and nose. A thunderous roar interrupts their staring match and Santana flinches, looking up to witness the lightning strike above her head.

Brittany immediately notices how fearful Santana looks and she quickly wraps an arm around the brunette's waist, pulling her against her own body. Santana gasps, using her hands to stop herself from crashing into Brittany. Her palms rest on the blonde's chest for a few seconds before Santana realises how close they are. Pushing Brittany away, Santana turns around and walks further under the bleachers (and further away from Brittany).

"Why are you so far away?" Brittany questions, her fingers wrapping around the metal bar above her head as she sways back and forth.

"I just can't afford to get sick again," Santana replies flatly, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes avoiding Brittany's direction. Brittany can't stop her eyes from falling down Santana's body towards her legs.

Brittany licks her lips, her breathing becoming unsteady as her eyes rake over that smooth tanned skin. "I'm sure the squad would be fine without you," she practically whispers.

Santana hears the blonde's strange tone and turns to her. Brittany's eyes flick up immediately towards Santana's but judging by the brunette's slight smirk, she witnessed Brittany's leering for a second.

"I wish they weren't so reliant on me," Santana adds an eye roll after her words.

Brittany nods, her eyes squinting a little. "And how do you feel about that?" She asks, mocking a therapist and Santana responds by huffing loudly, turning away from Brittany again. The blonde has noticed that Santana avoids looking at her a lot and she wants to know why. "The jocks might miss you but I'm sure the cheerleaders will be more than happy you're gone."

Santana snorts. "Is that all you think I'm good for here? Flirting with the jocks until they beg for me?"

"That's all I've seen so far," Brittany replies shrugging. Santana shakes her head and rubs her arms as a sudden shiver passes through her body.

"You know, you can be a real asshole," Santana remarks, finally meeting Brittany's gaze. The blonde just smirks and pops her lips.

"You're not telling me anything new."

"And you're assuming that you know about my life," Santana bites back. Brittany's eyes widen instantly and loud sharp laugh emits from her mouth.

"You're the one that assumed things about me before you even knew my name," Brittany replies, a little edge to her voice but her expression remains playful.

"Look," Santana sighs in frustration, "I said I didn't want to argue so…"

"Right," Brittany nods, "I'm going."

"What?" Santana snaps. "You're going to leave me here?"

"You never asked for a ride," Brittany replies, stepping out into the rain. It's only a currently a drizzle but Brittany suspects it should start hailing soon. She'd never leave Santana under the bleachers; she's simply testing the girl.

"You never offered!" Santana grabs her bag off the floor, struggling to hold it above her head. She races past Brittany to the Jeep and bounces on her toes as she waits for the blonde to unlock the car. Brittany presses the button on her keys and takes the large bag off Santana to throw it in the back seat. Santana hurries in the passenger side while Brittany runs around the car (carefully because she doesn't want to slip and embarrass herself) and starts the engine as soon as she's inside.

The engine sounds like the thunder from earlier. Brittany curses quietly as she turns the key over and over again. The car sounds like it's about to start just before it dies. Santana watches the blonde's frustrated expression then cringes when the blonde searches her pockets for what she believes to be a mobile phone and comes up empty. She feels kind of sorry for Brittany now.

"I have a mobile somewhere in my bag," Santana informs the blonde, exiting the passenger seat to hop in the back seat. Brittany leans forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. This is the worst possible scenario; being stuck in a car with Santana and not actually being able to touch her without the girl screaming and slapping her.

Apart of Brittany believes that Santana would actually return a kiss if she decides to kiss her, but then the rest of her thinks that the signs she's witnessing of Santana actually being interested in her are completely false.

She takes the key out of the ignition and joins Santana in the back seat of the car. Santana sends her a strange look but continues searching through her bag. Brittany pulls a lever on the driver's seat and it springs forward so she's able to rest her legs on top of it. Santana's eyes rake across the blonde's body and pause at her toned stomach because her shirt conveniently drags upwards as Brittany lies down.

"Found it," Santana announces when she feels the rectangular device. "Do you have your uncle's mobile number?"

Brittany shakes her head before her eyes narrow and she turns to Santana. She's about to question the brunette about how she knows Kurt is her uncle but Santana is speaking loudly in Spanish, probably to one of her parents. Brittany is distracted once again, but not by the girl's body for once. Santana sounds so unbelievably sexy that Brittany's mouth starts to go dry almost immediately.

The brunette sighs, slamming her phone back inside her bag. "My parents are at work, they won't be here for another hour and a half."

After recovering from her free Spanish lesson, Brittany grabs her favourite brown jacket and puts it on. "Guess we'll have to walk."

"I told you I can't get sick again!" Santana remarks in a high pitched voice.

Brittany chuckles. "Calm down, I'll just run home and get another car." A bolt of lightning crashes in the sky and Santana jumps in her seat, her hand gripping onto the arm of the car door. Brittany watches the girl carefully; Santana is shivering and her lips are trembling like she's about to cry. "Santana, are you scared of lightning?" The blonde questions. There's no hint of mocking or sarcasm and Santana meets Brittany's eyes, nodding slowly as she relaxes again.

"I just don't like being alone during a storm you know?" She says with an awkward laugh added to break the tension. Brittany notices how uneasy the girl looks and picks up her bag, throwing it in the front seat before moving closer to the brunette. She ignores Santana's protest as takes her jacket off and places it around the brunette's shoulders.

"I have to rinse my shirt out or I'll freeze to death," Brittany informs her neighbour as she slides back over to her side and removes her shirt. Santana's breath hitches as she watches the blonde's abs flex. Brittany opens the car door and twists the shirt between her hands, her tongue flicking out between her lips as she focuses on rinsing the water out.

She closes the door again and turns to Santana. "You should probably do the same," she says with the tiniest bit of playful in her tone.

Santana snaps out of her leering and shakes her head. "The jacket is helping."

Brittany nods, although slightly disappointed that Santana won't return the favour. She grabs a jacket from behind her and puts it on but doesn't zip it up. In fact Brittany lies down again and allows her abs and breasts (covered in a red bra) to be exposed. She closes her eyes so that she can hear Santana's breathing better and smirks when the brunette sucks in a sharp breath every now and then.

"So what's your type?"

Santana gulps. "Type of what?"

"Person," Brittany replies smirking. Santana bites her lip, knowing exactly what Brittany means by person. This is another type of flirting for Brittany, Santana recognizes. Unbeknownst to the brunette, Brittany just really wants to find out more about Santana; whether she likes girls or not.

"Someone that can make me laugh, cry and feel genuinely happy," Santana replies with a nonchalant shrug. "The top three emotions," she adds tight lipped.

"Do you really believe that?" Brittany asks, looking up at Santana from her position. Her taut stomach is still exposed and the brunette is finding it hard to avoid that area and maintain eye contact with her neighbour. "The emotions…" Brittany trails off for a moment, looking at the roof. "I mean, sadness, happiness and laughter aren't hard to pull off. I guess if I were you I'd be looking for someone who can make me feel something that is hard to fake." Brittany clicks her tongue against her teeth and tilts her head sideways to gauge her neighbour's reaction.

Santana is staring down at her fingers when she answers. "You have to stop doing that," she whispers. Brittany sits up, sliding slowly over to Santana.

"Doing what?" she whispers in return, making sure she grabs Santana's gaze as she speaks.

Santana chews on her bottom lip, her eyes darting around Brittany's face. "Making me think you actually care about me…"

The corner of Brittany's lips curve up. "I could say the same to you."

"I just want to know you…" Santana replies barely audibly. Brittany licks her lips and leans in closer, her breath hitting the brunette's cheek.

"Santana," she breathes. The brunette is right against the door so she has no chance of avoiding Brittany's advances now, not that she thinks the blonde would take advantage of her. For some reason she actually feels safe being this close to Brittany, it's actually distracting her from the storm outside.

"What?" She asks weakly.

"Are you sure you aren't a lesbian?" Santana is so distracted by Brittany's eyes and lips becoming closer to hers that she doesn't register the blonde's hand trailing up her thigh. She slides Brittany's hand off her and then pushes the blonde away from her as head lights come into view and stop just by the Jeep.

"It's my d-dad," Santana stutters, leaning over the front seat to grab her bag and hurrying out of the car. Santana doesn't wait for Brittany to follow her; she just jumps into the front seat and holds her neighbour's jacket around her comfortably. When Brittany enters the back seat (zipping up her jacket on the way), she avoids conversation, simply sending a smile to Santana's dad before he gets out of the car and hooks Brittany's Jeep onto the back of his.

The drive home is awkward. Santana's dad is mostly talking to about the new Jeep available and Brittany's reply is always 'mm' so the man knows she's listening but not really paying attention. They eventually pull up outside Santana's house and Brittany exits the car, unhooking her uncle's Jeep off and saying a quick thank you to Santana's father. She's surprised Santana doesn't retreat inside immediately, because the last thing Brittany said to her was sure to scare her away again.

"My dad has tools if you need them," Santana offers politely, her fingers locked behind her back.

Brittany eyes the girl up and down. "It's fine I have some. Thanks though."

Santana nods and turns on her heels but pauses just as she reaches her front door. She drops her bag inside and takes off the blonde's jacket before running back to Brittany and handing it to her.

"Thanks," Santana says softly, her smile a mix of a playful and genuine. Brittany finds her lips curving up as well but she turns her head so Santana doesn't witness it. Throwing the jacket in her back seat where it lives, Brittany walks back over to her home, only turning back once to witness Santana staring at her just before her front door closes.

After skipping up to her room, Santana receives a call from one of her cheerleader 'friends' and answers as though she's been on the toilet for the past hour.

"Who was that girl watching us practice?"

"How the hell do I know?" Santana replies defensively. "A lot of randoms watch us practice, it's nothing new." She shrugs it off, ready to hang up before the girl speaks again.

"I think she was a dyke," the girl whispers harshly.

Santana rolls her eyes, her finger hovering over the end call button. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, because in my squad we don't discriminate. Got it?"

The girl hurries a yes over the phone and Santana hangs up satisfied. She's sure that the girl will tell the rest of the squad of her choice of words though. She should have laughed or gone along with what the dumb cheerleader was saying…Santana has really had enough though. She's not only fed up with cheerleader questioning Brittany's sexuality but she's had enough of the blonde questioning hers.

Why would Brittany even ask that question? Santana isn't the one that gets close to Brittany; it's always the blonde who moves in first. Maybe Santana needs to learn to push Brittany away faster than she did in the car. Brittany just has those entrancing eyes and soft looking pink lips that draw Santana in, even though she's never even thought about kissing another girl before.

Santana reaches into her drawer and pulls out her sleeping pills. The thunder has disappeared for the time being and all Santana can feel outside is light rain. She can't believe how long her day felt, well the later part of her day when Brittany turned up. As she grabs her water bottle from her bag, she stares out the window and notices a figure in the distance. When the figure shifts and stands under the light, Santana gasps.

Brittany is smoking another cigarette and wearing a plain white over-sized t-shirt and no pants. Santana clears her throat and swallows down the pills after taking a swig of water. She looks outside again and gasps when she finds Brittany staring back at her. Brittany inhales a long drag of her cigarette before flicking the butt over the balcony. She's about to turn away and Santana is about to close her curtains but the brunette feels extremely bold and playful all of a sudden.

Brittany has to clench her jaw shut as Santana unzips her cheerleading top and turns around so her naked back is only exposed to Brittany. The brunette then grabs the closest shirt near her and turns around, the shirt covering her bare breasts. Brittany inhales sharply, her eyes glued to Santana's body. Santana squints slightly to see Brittany's reaction, but regrets it immediately when she notices one of the blonde's hands palming her breast. Brittany's mouth is opened and even without hearing her Santana suspects she's breathing fast. Before closing the curtain, Santana sends Brittany one last wink and the blonde almost groans out loud. She sighs in frustration, returning to her room and deciding to take a long cold shower since Kurt is out on a date.

* * *

**a/n: **Thanks so much to everyone that has reviewed, favourited and followed so far. This story is extremely fulfilling to write because it's pretty close to me. Feel free to PM me for a chat because I ranting about Brittana is one of my favourite past times!


	4. Fertilizer

**Authors note: **Thank you so much for the reviews so far, hope to hear a lot more from you all!  
Special thanks to BrittzTana for your dedication and kind words, JJLives for your lovely comments and ThoughtsInColour for your lovely words! I'm glad you're enjoying the ride so far.

* * *

Brittany is up the earliest she's ever been in her life. It's mostly because she doesn't want another run in with Santana; not that they ended yesterday on a bad note, Brittany just can't be bothered dealing with the girl today. If Santana was at least remotely interested in Brittany then the blonde would continue to flirt with her, but yesterday Santana was giving the blonde mixed signals; especially after they returned home.

In the car when Brittany was getting close to Santana, the brunette didn't shy away at first. It was probably because they were in an enclosed area and Santana didn't really have a place to retreat too. But what Brittany doesn't understand is why Santana keeps denying that she's a lesbian, because when she purposely stripped in her room she knew Brittany was watching and the blonde was left flustered and confused.

So Brittany isn't ready to see Santana yet, until she can formulate intimidating questions for the brunette that Santana won't be able to give bullshit answers too.

She heads outside in a denim vest and black basketball shorts. She didn't really look in the mirror before she left the house but Brittany suspects that she looks decent enough. She finds a tool box in the garage and heads to the Jeep to start working on whatever the problem was last night. She suspected a flooded engine, but when she drove the Jeep to and from the mall the other day it seemed fine.

Brittany props open the hood and places the tool box down next to her feet. It makes a bit of a bang and Brittany looks towards Santana's house to see if she interrupted anyone. When she notices a curtain in the front window move, Brittany's brow creases but she ignores it and starts working. She notices how old and rusted the engine looks and thinks she'll need to get a new one altogether. Her uncle will most definitely be able to afford it though, so Brittany grabs a cloth and starts cleaning parts that look as though they've been shat on by an eagle. She's surprised that she's woken this early to help her uncle out, because Brittany never cleaned or helped around the house with her parents.

A door slamming shut causes Brittany to flinch but she doesn't look up. She suspects it's one of her neighbours off to work early, but then loud rap music starts playing and the blonde smirks but remains focused on cleaning. She doesn't want to give Santana the attention she so clearly wants.

"Hey," Santana yells when she's closer to Brittany. She places her speaker box on the grass near Brittany's Jeep. "You're out of the house," she comments with a smirk, hoping to receive a reaction from Brittany.

Brittany just exhales a slow breath and scrunches the cloth in her hands before turning to Santana.

"You might have a crack in your window," she says casually, pointing to said window, "your curtain kept moving around. It was um, probably the wind."

Santana's smirk disappears instantly and her palms begin to sweat. She can't have Brittany know that she was the cause of the curtain shuffling because she was watching the blonde for a minute or two. Biting her lip, Santana's eyes travel down Brittany's neck towards her chest. She can see a little bit of cleavage and stomach because Brittany only buttoned up the bottom two buttons on her vest. The fact that she isn't wearing a bra causes Santana's breathing to pick up and she has to step back a bit so she's near to her front yard; a safe distance from the blonde.

"I'll tell my dad to check it out," she replies breathlessly.

Brittany turns to Santana to give her a nod in understanding but almost trips over her own feet at what she sees. "No cheerleading uniform today," she states quietly. Santana watches how the blonde's mouth parts slowly, before Brittany licks her lips. Knowing that she's got the upper hand again, Santana just shrugs and turns the volume up on the speaker.

She sings the first line of J. Cole's Power Trip and Brittany feels her body temperature rising by the second. Santana's tight, mini black shorts and tight white singlet is giving her heart palpitations to the point where her vision is slightly blurry. She quickly rubs her eyes and focuses back on the Jeep.

"Got me up all night, all I'm singing is love songs…"

Brittany rolls her eyes; of course Santana has an amazing, raspy voice. She tries to block out the sound but it's no use. Santana is belting out the lyrics and soon enough she's rapping.

"I'm still on you, I'm still on you, my drink spill on me while I feel on you I'm saying…" Santana spins around on the grass, her eyes closed and not really caring if Brittany is watching or not. She loves this music and getting lost in it.

Brittany knows the song and she's tempted to join in with Santana. Maybe she'll surprise the brunette and Santana will grow defensive with her music. Maybe Santana is the type of person to protect what they love and if anyone shows a remote interest in it she gets jealous. Brittany smirks, slamming the hood down and closing her eyes.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm in love? Baby, I want you to want to me…" Brittany belts out and Santana immediately grows quiet. She leans down and presses pause, walking cautiously over to Brittany and standing directly behind her.

"You know J. Cole?"

"Who doesn't?" The blonde shrugs casually and throws the dirty cloth in the toolbox beside her.

"You have a really good RnB voice for a white girl," Santana comments with a small smile. Brittany turns around, her butt resting on the edge of the hood and her chest out.

"Yours is a little better," she replies, her tongue sliding against her teeth. Santana's smile turns to a smirk and she steps forward.

"Just a little bit?" She teases.

Brittany feels that this is the perfect moment to question Santana, but she doesn't want to scare the brunette away so she treads carefully with her words.

"Do you like teasing me?" Brittany asks.

Surprisingly Santana 's smirk stays in place. "It's the best part of my day," she replies, her voice strong.

Brittany's eyebrows rise in response to the answer. She decides to be bold with her next question. "Were you flirting with me last night when you stripped?"

Santana's smirk fades slightly and she folds her arms, staring in a different direction to avoid the blonde's gaze. "I wasn't flirting."

"You weren't flirting huh?" Brittany questions again, giving Santana a chance to answer truthfully. She shrugs when there's no response, "okay then."

"I wasn't flirting!" Santana protests. "I just like seeing your reactions…"

"_My_ reactions? Well I like seeing _your_ reactions." Santana turns back to Brittany and walks forward slowly, cringing slightly at the stones pressing against her feet through her socks.

"You just want me to be a lesbian so you can fuck me," Santana says with a roll of her tongue. Brittany finds the brunette's new found confidence incredibly sexy and she can't help but let her gaze fall towards Santana's breasts.

"Santana," Brittany breathes, "you don't have to be a lesbian for me to get you into bed." Santana doesn't have time to respond, because Brittany grabs her by the waist and hoists her on top of the hood. Santana's gasps loudly and her hands automatically grip the blonde's shoulders. Brittany laughs, "Your reactions are priceless."

"Stop it," Santana practically moans, pushing Brittany away. From this distance the brunette is able to count the sweat droplets on Brittany's chest that slide through the crevice of her cleavage.

"Stop staring at me like that and I will," Brittany whispers, having not moved at all at Santana's weak attempt at a push.

The door to Brittany's house closes, but both girl's barely hear it because of the trance they're in. Kurt strides over to them and raises his hand to his forehead to block out the sun.

"Whoa is there a rap music video going on here that I wasn't informed about?" He asks enthusiastically, hoping the tension dissipates. Brittany rolls her eyes and Santana practically jumps into the blonde's arms while trying to get off the hood of the Jeep. She creates as much distance between them as possible and grabs her speaker box, sending a small smile to Kurt before retreating inside her house.

"God dammit Uncle Kurt," Brittany curses.

"Sorry," Kurt apologizes weakly with a smirk. "Did I interrupt something romantic?"

Brittany groans and picks up the toolbox. "Your Jeep is fucked."

"Well it's not the only one," Kurt kicks his leg back and raises his arms in victory, "I've got another date tonight!"

It might be the heat, but Brittany suddenly feels like throwing up.

X

Sitting in her room for the past few hours has been relaxing. Brittany feels so much safer in her room, alone and without the worry of other people's problems. She's thankful Santana is going to be at school for another five and half hours, or even more if she has cheerleading practice which is a high possibility.

As much as Brittany has grown to like teasing and flirting with Santana, she also enjoys time apart from the girl. She can't admit to herself that she enjoys being in the girl's presence, even when they aren't talking. There's definitely chemistry when there's silence and tension when their eyes meet. But not being one to talk about feelings, Brittany is hoping that Santana is the one that admits there's something between them; whether it's all physical or if it involves a bit of romance and emotion.

There aren't many people Brittany has opened up to in her life. Her parents were a definite no, no. Kurt is really her only option because of lack of friends, but she isn't ready to delve into her deepest thoughts when she doesn't even know herself what lies there.

Two things are for sure, Brittany finds Santana insanely attractive and she'd love to see the girl naked. Maybe being blunt with Santana will bring out some emotion, or it could scare her off altogether. Isn't that what Brittany wants though? She's spent the past week trying to avoid Santana because she had a rule of not making any friends in her new neighbourhood, unless she got a job and people were nice to her there.

Santana has a way of keeping you attached however. She lures you in without even trying and once you watch those plump lips move and hear her voice you're blind to everything in the world but her. Brittany has wondered for so long what it would be like to have a relationship with a girl; something that is real and involves dinners with each other's parents and holding hands at shopping malls. Apart of her longs for someone that unconditionally adores her, but another part screams for independence and sex with no strings attached.

There isn't really a better way to put it; Brittany wants to feel.

She grabs her blanket, a cigarette and lighter before stepping out onto her balcony. The sun isn't harsh anymore and there's no wind (its perfect weather to Brittany) so she lays the blanket out and lies on it stomach down and head turned towards Santana's bedroom window. She lights the cigarette and exhales the smoke, closing her eyes. Sometimes she wishes she could go back to the careless days of recreational drugs with people she barely knew but respected. Although those times involved her parents and she'd rather not relive them.

Brittany's eyes peer right when she hears voices and notices two adults exit Santana's house. Her mom is hot, Brittany thinks. Her dad isn't too bad either. They're holding hands, walking to the driveway and kissing each other slowly before they enter separate cars. A stray tear falls across her nose and Brittany sniffles. She adores parents that don't stop showing love for each other even after they're married and have kids. She hates how love and life stopped for her parents. In a way she feels sorry for them having to live with themselves after all they put her through and all they put themselves through. Life could have been so different for them if they didn't allow it to consume them.

Brittany would rather spend half of her life finding someone that's worth all the love in the world than settle for someone who isn't worth half or any. She sits up and walks back into her bedroom after butting out the cigarette. She grabs her diary from her drawer and sits on the edge of her bed. Clicking down on a pen, Brittany writes onto the one of the pages.

_Period is late this month. Vagina is probably angry from lack of sex. I should download an app so I can keep track of it. Also there's this girl…_

She leaves it there, closing the book and placing it back inside her drawer.

Brittany is not good at showing emotion, but that just means when she does eventually show emotion, she isn't good at hiding it. She's been angry for so long that the anger turned into laziness when she first arrived at her Uncle's, now it's just tiredness. She should find a job now that Santana isn't around to distract her.

X

"Janitor!" Kurt yells.

"Huh?" Brittany asks, peering over her laptop.

"Janitor wanted at local high school," Kurt reads aloud, propping his glasses further up his nose.

"Which school?" Brittany asks curiously.

"Lima Heights High," Kurt replies like it's obvious, "what other local high school is there?"

Brittany cringes at the thought of working so close to Santana. She can't live next to the girl and then go to school with her.

"Next," she says loudly.

"Brittany," Kurt says sternly. "You can either go back to school as a student or you can start from the bottom and work your way to the top of the job chain."

"I don't want to be a janitor," Brittany whines, "why can't I work at a coffee shop!"

"Brittany, you barely passed tenth grade," Kurt exclaims, "a lot of places only hire people who have graduated or…who can count."

"I don't have to know math to make a coffee," Brittany replies pouting.

"But you have to know math to count to the change for the coffee," Kurt replies smugly, shutting his laptop. "Come on, I'll call the school."

"I'll work for you!" Brittany yells. "Please don't call them yet I have to think about it."

Kurt sighs, taking his glasses off and placing them on the table. "Okay, it's your choice at the end of the day."

"Awesome," Brittany says with a grin. She closes her laptop as well and heads outside to see if there is any mail (not that she'd be receiving any).

Brittany checks the time as she walks to the mail box and pinches her lips together. Santana should be arriving home any minute now. Brittany opens the lid and pulls out a few bills before turning around and walking back to the front door. She hears a car door slam and she stops. Giggling follows after that and two pairs of feet stomp against cement. A male's voice grabs her attention and Brittany walks towards the fence separating her and Santana's homes. She looks around the corner and witnesses Santana holding a boy's hand, dragging him inside her house before slamming the door shut.

Brittany doesn't recognize the jock. He isn't the one Santana was flirting with yesterday. Brittany shrugs, already well aware of Santana's effect on people, then bolts into her house and upstairs to her bedroom. Trying to be as discreet at possible, Brittany opens the curtain to her balcony and watches as Santana walks past the window with the boy following behind. She isn't able to see anything after that (thankfully) and Brittany decides that the best thing to do is go for a run. At least she'll be away from Santana now that she's home and she won't have to hear any grunts from that boy she brought home.

Brittany makes her way down her street, picking up her pace as she reaches the high school and sprints around it to get to another road. She admires the houses on her run. Most of them have the typical white picket fence and bright green grass leading up to their humongous mansions. She likes to the think that maybe one day she'll own a home like these ones in the future (hopefully not alone).

She reaches a home that occupies a woman in its front yard. Brittany slows down to a walk and the woman notices her immediately, sending her a bright smile.

"Excuse me," the woman calls out, "could you help me with these last few weeds?"

Brittany walks past the gate, approaching the woman slowly. She doesn't want to give this woman the wrong idea, because she definitely looks like one of those cougars she seen on television.

"Uh yeah sure," Brittany replies kindly. The woman smirks and steps back after handing Brittany a gardening glove. Surely this woman was looking for an innocent teenager to prey on because she's dressed in a mini skirt and heels while gardening. Brittany smirks, shaking her head at how desperate this woman must be.

While she bends over to pull out a weed, the woman runs her hand down Brittany's back.

"Do you need a drink or anything honey?"

Brittany straightens up and steps away from the woman. "No, um I'm fine," she mutters. She bends down again, making sure her ass into facing the woman. She really doesn't want to get involved in a love triangle or divorce between this woman and her husband, but clearly the woman isn't happy so the least she can do is help her garden.

"I think that's it," Brittany says, arching her back to stretch. She hands the woman the gardening glove and waves goodbye.

"Wait, won't you come in for a drink?"

Brittany sighs, watching the woman's smirk grow and her chest pop out. As much as she would love sex right now, especially with a cougar, she just doesn't want her new life in Lima Heights to get messy. "You have a good day."

X

Santana feels wetness through the boy's jeans and immediately breaks their sloppy kiss, jumping off her bed and grabbing a towel. "Are you freakin serious?" She asks the boy whose embarrassment is written all over his face.

"Sorry," he whines, "I just got a little too happy."

"We were just making out," Santana replies in disbelief. She throws the towel at the boy as he stands up. He wipes his jeans until most of the stain is unnoticeable then attempts to hand Santana back the towel. "Keep it," she says with a disgusted look.

"I'm sorry. Please don't tell anyone at school," he begs. Santana just dismisses him with a wave of her hand and the boy scurries off. She exits her house soon after to watch his car speed off down the street, almost hitting a neighbours mailbox.

"He probably jacks off while he drives," Santana mutters to herself. She hears feet pattering against pavement and turns to watch Brittany slow down to a walk just outside her front yard. "You would not believe what just happened," she says with a breathless laugh. She doesn't know why she's starting this conversation with Brittany, but it feels so natural. She wants to be able to tell Brittany about everything that happens to her, whether it's embarrassing or remarkable. She hopes that Brittany will at least listen.

"Let me guess, you want to brag about the sex you had to see if I'll react," Brittany replies smugly, walking across the grass in Santana's yard to her own house. Santana follows behind the blonde and frowns.

"No I just…" She sighs frustratingly. "Never mind." Huffing loudly, Santana walks off in the opposite direction. Brittany rolls her eyes and feels a little bad for assuming things so she chases after Santana and grabs her arm, spinning the brunette around.

"Tell me," Brittany says, gazing into those brown eyes that dart everywhere but her own.

Santana pulls her arm from Brittany's grip and folds her arms defensively. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you have better things to do than to listen to me."

Brittany snorts. "Well yeah, but I'd love to hear about you having sex with a guy while your parents aren't home."

Santana winces at Brittany's condescending tone. "I didn't have sex with him. In fact we were making out when he came."

"Ooh," Brittany hisses, "that must have been a letdown."

"Well I wasn't planning on letting him see my goodies anyway, so I'm glad it happened," Santana retorts, finding her confidence again.

"He must have been pretty special for you to bring him home," Brittany states, "were you going to introduce him to your parents?"

"Hellz no."

Brittany smiles, enjoying the banter with Santana (especially her adorable street talk) despite her growing desire to rip the girl's cheerleading uniform off. Santana notices Brittany's wondering gaze and smirks, stepping forward so Brittany is forced to meet her eyes.

"Let's hang out," she suggests.

Brittany shakes her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"We're basically hanging out right now!"

"No we aren't, we're just talking," Santana rolls her eyes, "that's practically what we always do."

A smirk immediately takes over Brittany's lips. "So you don't want to talk anymore?" Santana gulps, watching the blonde stalk her like an animal.

"I…" The word barely leaves Santana's lips.

"Santana," Brittany whispers, walking forward so the brunette has no choice but to back up against her front door. "It's the 21st century, you shouldn't be afraid to want another girl."

"I don't," Santana chokes out.

"Prove it," the blonde murmurs as she leans down towards the brunette's neck, placing a soft open mouthed kiss against her smooth skin. Santana's mouth parts widely and short, sharp breath exits between her lips.

She shakes her head then violently shoves Brittany back. "Stop it!"

Brittany regains her footing after the push and frowns at Santana. "You fucking stop it."

"You're the one kissing me!"

"You're the one flirting with me so what the fuck do you expect me to do?!" Brittany yells back.

Not wanting any of her neighbours to come out and witness this, Santana opens her front door and stares back at Brittany one last time, her teeth grinding as she speaks. "It may be the 21st century, but I wouldn't touch you even if it was the 51st century."

She slams the door and Brittany is left on the lawn stunned, reeling from Santana's freak out. She doesn't understand why it's such a big deal if they mess around, even if it they kept it a secret. Maybe Santana doesn't want to get into anything with Brittany because she's afraid she will feel more than she expected. There was absolutely no truth to Santana's last statement, Brittany thinks.

It did hurt a little though.

X

Brittany is tapping her pen against her diary when she hears a splash. She sits up from her bed and walks out on the balcony, staring past a few trees to see half of the pool in Santana's back yard. She watches as a figure swims laps and then floats back in the water. Even with dim lighting Brittany can tell it's Santana. She checks the time; 9:34pm. She wonders if the brunette's parents know she's out there, but figures it doesn't matter because Santana is in senior year and most likely doesn't have a bed time.

The blonde isn't the least bit tired and because Santana is still awake, she thinks it might be a good time to apologize to her. Well, not really apologize, because Brittany isn't sorry for kissing Santana's neck. Just thinking about how soft the girl was makes her shiver.

Shaking her head to rid her thoughts Brittany places on her sneakers and heads next door. Kurt is on another date tonight so she locks her front door before leaving. When she reaches Santana's front door, she's surprised that it's unlocked. She knocked of course but no one answered.

"Hello?" When there's no answer again, Brittany suspects Santana is the only one home. She treads through the dark halls and rooms until she finds the backyard. Sliding open the door, Brittany steps out and stands by the pool, watching Santana floating on her back with her eyes closed.

Wanting to lighten the mood (even though Santana will probably go nuts) Brittany picks up a beach ball and throws it so it hits the brunette's stomach.

"What the fuck?" Santana squeals, standing on her feet and rubbing her eyes.

"Just wanted to grab your attention," Brittany replies innocently.

"You couldn't have just called my name?" Santana asks agitatedly.

Brittany shrugs, trying to hide her smirk. "Thought throwing the ball would be funnier."

"Well ha-ha," Santana replies dryly, clearly unamused. Brittany sits on the edge of the pool and Santana swims towards her, making sure there are a few feet of distance between them. "What do you want?"

"I couldn't sleep without talking to you about what happened today," Brittany answers truthfully. Santana notices how quickly Brittany can go from being cheeky to vulnerable, but remembers how blunt and rude she can be so Santana keeps her guard up. "I'm not sorry for kissing your neck because you knew what you were getting into with me when you continued pursuing a friendship."

"I honestly didn't know you'd take my teasing to heart and kiss me like that," Santana replies.

"But I…Well okay, but my intentions were clear."

"Your intentions were to not be my friend and then you wanted to get me in bed," Santana retorts firmly.

Brittany groans quietly, unable to think straight when she knows Santana is half naked under that water. Maybe showing no emotion at all is better than being smug or genuine. Brittany sighs, running her fingers through her hair and looking up at the stars.

"I want a lot of things in life. That doesn't mean I can have them," Brittany replies monotonously. She finds talking easier when she isn't looking at Santana. The brunette swims a few feet closer to grab Brittany's attention, but the blonde's attention remains upwards on the sky.

"So you understand that I'm not a lesbian and you can't have me," Santana replies slowly, her eyes wide.

Brittany bites her lip to hide her 'you're bullshitting' victory smirk. Instead of using words she just nods and reluctantly turns her gaze down to Santana again, immediately noticing the devious smirk the brunette is wearing. Without a chance to even yell, Brittany is dragged into the water; all the noise around her just a dull hum in her ears.

When she surfaces, Santana is laughing and leaning against the wall of the pool. Brittany splashes water in her face and Santana returns the attack. After arms start to pain, both girl's quit their attack and stand in the water opposite each other, breathes uneven and chests heaving.

There's something different about this moment, Brittany thinks. Not only does she not want to touch Santana, she doesn't want to kiss her. Staring at Santana this close is enough – water drops falling off her thick lashes and plump lips being tucked into her mouth for moistening. Brittany watches Santana's eyes drop from her own to her lips and back up again. She could kiss her, fuck her in this pool and walk away.

But maybe being her friend isn't such a bad idea.

Brittany walks left and pulls herself out of the pool. She cringes at the squash sound her socks make against her shoes.

"Wait," Santana calls out breathlessly, lifting herself out of the pool and grabbing her towel. She wraps it around her and tucks in the corner of it to make it stay. "I can get you a towel," Santana offers.

"Its fine," Brittany holds her arms, shivering. "My uncle collects soft towels." She walks towards the back door but doesn't even reach up to the handle when Santana's calling her name.

"Brittany, my parents are going to be out for a while can you stay? Not the night," Santana rushes out, "just for a while."

What would they talk about if Brittany stays? Santana will think they're best friends and ask her all about her childhood and why she's living with her uncle and not her parents. The last thing Brittany wants is to be civil with Santana and alone with her.

"Call one of your friends, or that guy that came over today. I'm sure he'll want a second chance."

"I'm giving you a second chance though," Santana replies in a desperate tone, "as long as you promise not to kiss me again."

Brittany huffs and walks away from Santana. "I forgot we were in the 51st century...this is bullshit, you can't ask that of me when you fucking lead me on." She doesn't remember the way out because the house is so damn big, but as long as her neighbour isn't near her she should be fine.

"Brittany I like being around you and yes I admit I flirt a lot but I do that naturally with everyone," Santana explains, hurrying after the blonde.

"Well good luck being single for the rest of your life," Brittany yells back, using her hands to feel around in the dark. She makes it to the front door finally and pulls it open, but unfortunately Santana slides in front of her.

"You came here wanting to talk! Why are you mad all of a sudden?"

"I don't know Santana," Brittany yells in frustration, "I just need to get away from you before I lose my mind."

"Why would you lose your mind? Please explain this to me because _I_ won't be able to sleep now," Santana orders firmly, her hand pressing on either side of the door making her look like a starfish.

"Santana you don't realise how fucked up I am! It's best you let me leave and never try to talk to me again," the blonde answers tiredly.

"I want too though…" Santana replies gently.

"No you don't," Brittany replies through gritted teeth, growing angry again. She steps forward and points to Santana. "You don't want to know me, okay?" Santana is left speechless and weak so Brittany pushes her aside and runs to her own house. Without a second thought Santana runs after the retreating blonde, taking a detour to the side of Brittany's house because she knows the blonde won't let her in if she knocks.

"I'm coming up," Santana yells, grabbing a tree branch and hoisting herself up. She looks around for another foot hole but comes up empty, awkwardly standing on a bending branch near Brittany's balcony. "No I'm not," the brunette mumbles as she bends her legs to sit on the branch. Santana has no idea if this is a dream or not; it sure feels like one of her strange dreams. Never in a million years did she think she'd climb a tree just to get someone's attention.

"Santana what the hell is wrong with you?" Brittany asks as she steps outside.

"I didn't think it through," Santana replies casually, not in the mood to argue any longer. Brittany can't help the amused smile that crosses her lips. She leans over the railing of her balcony and watches Santana swing her legs back and forth.

"Are you going to get down?" The blonde asks.

"In a minute," Santana replies with a self-righteous attitude. Brittany rolls her eyes and walks back inside her room, down the stairs and outside her house. She finds Santana clenching onto the tree branch she's sitting on.

"You're a cheerleader," Brittany states, chuckling, "you get flung through the air."

"Shut up," Santana spits back weakly, causing Brittany's smirk to grow. Both girls are stunned at how fast they went from a screaming match to speaking civilly. Brittany so desperately wants to leave Santana on that tree branch and go inside, but the brunette actually looks terrified sitting eight feet up in the air (especially because she's wearing a towel and the bark from the tree is probably digging into her beautiful, soft, angelic skin).

"Jump down I'll catch you," Brittany suggests, holding her arms up, her stance solid.

"No freakin way!"

Brittany groans annoyed, deciding to step back a little to give Santana space. "I've actually learnt a lot about you in the past week. You hate storms, you're afraid of heights and you don't like being alone in your house…"

"That's not a lot," Santana argues, "those are just some of my um, childish…fears."

"You don't have to be ashamed of them," Brittany says in a comforting voice that almost makes Santana's heart melt. She's caught gazing at the blonde again for a moment before something pricks her thigh.

"Fuck," she hisses, "is this tree made out of thumb tacks?"

Brittany snorts loudly and covers her mouth. Santana can't help but laugh as well, no matter how much her ass is hurting.

"Come on," Brittany says seriously, stepping forward, "just fall into my arms."

"Hellz no," Santana replies, firmly shaking her head.

"I have really strong upper body strength," Brittany states confidently, causing the brunette to immediately rethink her decision.

"Please don't drop me," Santana begs, squeezing her eyes shut.

"No promises," Brittany teases.

"What!" Santana squeals as she slides off the tree branch. She braces for the dirt below but finds herself floating when she opens her eyes again. Brittany's hands are on her waist, literally holding her in the air.

The blonde's veins on her neck are visible as she strains to keep Santana lifted and Santana chooses to focus on them as Brittany slowly places her on the ground, toes first. Santana's hand lifts an inch, ready to touch the blonde's veins because she's so entranced, but at the last moment her brain redirects her hand towards her own neck and scratches it awkwardly.

"Thanks," she mumbles, "I'm a bit of a drama queen," she chuckles embarrassingly.

Brittany nods, her lips in a thin line. She steps back, effectively letting go of the brunette's waist. Unfortunately the towel didn't slip off Santana on her way down.

"I guess we'll go back to me avoiding you and you trying desperately to figure me out," Brittany says with a slight smirk. Santana's smile grows slowly as she hugs the towel around her body.

"I guess so…" Santana brushes past the blonde but stops to say one last thing. "You remember everything we spoke about before right?"

"Yes," Brittany sighs, "unfortunately I do."

"You'll find someone that will let you kiss them Brittany," Santana replies with a giggle.

Brittany pinches her lips together, hiding her smirk. "Go to bed you have school tomorrow."

Santana turns around and waves a hand in the air. Brittany thinks about that moment in the pool when she saw Santana up close and didn't feel the need to kiss or touch her. It makes her want the girl even more, not someone else.

But the chance of having Santana even let Brittany get close to her again is extremely low, so maybe the blonde should be friends with her. Because sometimes friends become more than that, or they become the best friend forever that the other confides in when they're in love with some random they meet in a coffee shop that shows a common interest over the same novel.

"Ugh," Brittany breathes, sitting down on the grass by the tree outside her bedroom. The night air isn't as cold as she thought it would be. She doesn't realise that Santana is watching her from her own room, wondering what the blonde is thinking about.

Santana isn't going to lie; when Brittany stares at her she feels something she's never felt; something that leaves a dull ache in her chest and a shiver through her fingers. Maybe Brittany is right; it's the 21st century and no doubt the cheerleaders on her squad have probably all experimented. But why would they have called Brittany a dyke?

Santana groans, closing her window and lying back in bed. As much as she doesn't want to have a million thoughts about her sexuality floating in her mind, she also doesn't want to take her sleeping pills because the thoughts of Brittany are actually calming. As much as the blonde doesn't want to admit that she's a sincere person, Santana knows there's a nurturing side somewhere inside Brittany. She'll just have to try a different tactic to allow the blonde to trust her again.


	5. Wildfire

When Santana and Brittany woke up this morning, they both had completely different plans. Brittany decided she'd finally give in to Santana, allowing them to be labelled friends. Santana however, just wanted to dig into the blonde's past (not how she had done it before with Kurt, but actually ask Brittany herself this time).

Neither of them had the courage to approach the other in the morning. And both were relieved that Santana had school. She's currently in her last class, waiting for the bell to ring signalling that she can get the hell out of there. For some reason she's expecting to see Brittany outside in front of her Jeep ready to take her home. She can't help thinking hopefully because Brittany has indeed done spontaneous and sometimes purposeful things before. The fact that Brittany had joked with her yesterday after their argument was a big step in their relationship…correction, friendship…that's if Brittany even wants one, Santana thinks, grumbling to herself quietly.

The bell rings and the invisible thumb tack under Santana's ass launches her to her feet and she's the first one out of the classroom. She grabs her bag from her locker, ecstatic that Cheerleading practice is only going to be held two days a week, including Saturday, because of her Coach's unexpected pregnancy. Santana believed that she would have to take on a lot more because she's the captain, but after their meeting this morning, in which Sue Sylvester praised her for her job as Captain so far, she also recommended that they slow down a little until two weeks for their regionals competition – then of course work extra hard every day, evidently missing most of their class (which Santana is totally fine fine).

Once she pushes the doors exiting the school forcefully, Santana's eyes scan the car park and then the street. Unfortunately there is no Jeep and no tall, hot blonde. Either Brittany is in one of her moods again or Santana's hopes were too high. Since when is Brittany her personal chauffer anyway? Santana feels like an absolute moron for thinking Brittany would still even think of doing anything nice for her. Santana was a little vicious yesterday after Brittany kissed her neck, but it wasn't completely unexpected. The more Santana denies her feelings the more Brittany flirts with her, Santana's realised. But there are instances where Brittany's guard drops straight down and Santana can see some reluctance and…vulnerability? She thinks she'll probably have to tie the blonde down and torture her to get to know her, but Santana is not that type of person and she thinks Brittany is worth the time.

She makes it halfway down the street when she hears footsteps rushing behind her.

"Yo!" A testosterone filled voice calls out. Santana sighs in frustration and folds her arms, turning around to glare at the boy. She can't be bothered dealing with anyone from her school right now, all she wants to do is run home to think of ways to learn more about her neighbour.

She knows who this guy is (well she doesn't know his name) because she has seen him hanging around the guy she invited home yesterday. He probably wants a shot at her as well to prove not all high school boys cum prematurely.

"Santana right?" He asks. Great, the brunette rolls her eyes, this guy is going to try to charm his way into her pants.

"What do you want?" She answers tiredly.

"Just wondering if we could hang out now if you aren't busy," a smirk spreads across his lips as his eyes slide down Santana's petite frame, "my buddy told me how good you are at making a guy cum."

"Actually your buddy told me he thought about you when he came," Santana replies instantly, her own signature smirk gleaming. The boy frowns and his lips part to say something but no sound comes out. "Maybe that's why he's on the football team," Santana adds, shrugging nonchalantly. She watches as the boy thinks hard about her words and his face turns practically pale.

"Or…um…m-maybe…" He stutters out, scratching his neck as a way to rid himself of anxiousness. "Maybe…they're just your insecurities!"

Santana's never heard a footballer use big words before.

Wait is he calling her gay?

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking too?" Santana hisses, the grip on her bag strap tightening as though she's ready to heave it over her shoulder at the jock.

"It's…I – never mind!" He apologizes frantically, the sweat on his face sliding down to his neck. Santana finds this very unattractive and would prefer it if Brittany was the one sweating in front of her.

Shit, she thinks, this guy might be right…

A car pulls up beside Santana, the tyres screeching against the road as the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop.

Speak of the unicorn.

She recognizes the Jeep instantly and smirks when Brittany opens the door, pulls her aviators from her eyes and nods for Santana to hop in.

For a moment Santana is rooted to the cement beneath her feet because Brittany looks extraordinarily sexy. She isn't afraid to admit that to herself internally and she suspects Brittany is aware of her thoughts because her lips twitch up into a smirk.

Santana flips the jock off before jumping into the passenger seat. Brittany speeds off and Santana feels adrenaline rush through her. It sounds really lame, but Santana is picturing a high speed chase with Brittany as the driver of the escape car. She can hear the overwhelming orchestra in her head play music to their getaway.

Brittany feels a little uncomfortable. Santana is bouncing forward in her seat, a large smile on her face and her eyes closing every so often as the wind from outside flies against her face. Brittany is only doing 35mph and finds it strange that Santana is acting like she's on a roller coaster.

"You're awfully excited for some reason," Brittany observes in a flat tone, focusing on the road again. Upon hearing the blonde's voice, something snaps inside the brunette. She leans back in her seat, her fingers still tightly wrapped around her bag strap.

"Sorry," Santana breathes, "When I have adrenaline rushes I really have adrenaline rushes."

"Hey don't apologize for being you," Brittany answers casually. Santana finds it strange that the girl can say such nice things sometimes in such a casual manner. At least it's something she's learning about Brittany without having to interrogate her. "So what was _this _jock's pick up line?"

Santana thinks back to the conversation and her face scrunches up adorable, but Brittany won't dare face her. Santana doesn't want to tell Brittany anything about it. Well, just not the part about projecting her insecurities onto the jock. There are some parallels between her and the jock, but that jock isn't even gay…well she doesn't think so…but does that make her straight as well?

She groans in frustration and Brittany raises an eyebrow. "It was that lame was it?"

"No," she sighs, "he just wanted to sleep with me…"

Brittany purses her lips together. She can hear through Santana's strained voice that the brunette doesn't like to be treated like one of those sex dolls that have those oval mouths permanently open. "I'm glad you said no," Brittany states, pulling up in a free car spot outside the mall. She clears her throat, realising what she just hinted. "Cause he probably has some disease, you know…"

Santana bites the inner wall of her mouth and nods. She likes the protective, vulnerable side of Brittany a lot – even if she only witnesses it for a second. Brittany scratches her cheek, avoiding looking in Santana's direction. She should probably get out of the car so Santana realises she has to as well.

"You fixed the Jeep," Santana says suddenly. Brittany thinks the brunette just talks to keep her around, but that may be just wishful thinking.

"My Uncle took it into the shop today," Brittany replies nodding. Santana nods along as well and then meets Brittany's gaze again for a just a second but they both smile really small at each other and then turn away awkwardly.

Santana pinches her lips together as she stares out the window. She thinks of another question but doesn't turn to say it. "Why did you decide to pick me up today?"

"I didn't," Brittany replies instantly, then mentally berates herself for sounding guilty. "I was driving to the mall and then saw you on your way home…"

"Right," Santana says through a smirk that Brittany is unable to see. There is another deafening silence between the girl's as they sit in the Jeep, both contemplating whether to keep up the conversation or part ways. Of course Brittany didn't even think of taking Santana home first, she just assumed it was okay that they head to the mall for whatever it was she needed…did she actually need to go to the mall? Oh right, she was actually going to pick up Santana, the mall is indeed a cover up.

Brittany has nothing to do at the moment so she could probably activate her plan. Well, it's not really a plan of sorts. You wouldn't see it in a spy or action movie. Brittany doesn't know how to go about giving Santana a chance at friendship. Should she give her a bracelet to signify it?

"What are you thinking about?" Santana asks suddenly, filling the air with unwanted tension again. Brittany places her hand over her mouth as her elbow leans on the window sill. She turns slowly to Santana and her eyes trail down to the girl's legs, covered by that tiny cheerleading skirt.

Brittany swallows, cringing at the dryness in her throat. "I'm thirsty." She steps out of the car and Santana follows suit. They enter the mall and Brittany leads them to a Wendy's. "Do you want anything?" She asks, turning to Santana who is covering her arms and shivering slightly. She shakes her head and Brittany orders one caramel milkshake.

When it's ready, Brittany takes the drink and leads them to an empty table. There aren't many people at the mall this time (no teenagers anyway). Brittany takes a sip of her drink, hiding the arousal she feels as the caramel slides down her throat. Santana is still shaking slightly, so Brittany places her drink down and takes off her jacket, handing it to the brunette.

"It's okay," Santana replies blankly, staring at the blonde in awe. What's with this girl and letting her borrow her jackets? Santana wonders.

Brittany rolls her eyes, remembering how stubborn her neighbour is at first. She stands up and walks behind Santana, placing the jacket over the brunette's shoulders (and of course Santana doesn't object). Then Brittany sits down as if she didn't just act out a romantic gesture. Santana smiles really small as she closes the jacket around her, enjoying the warm feeling it gives her. She wonders if it's the jacket that is comforting her or the fact it belongs to Brittany. This one is black and cotton, a little too big for Santana's frame but just how she likes it.

"What do you think you'll get in return for letting me borrow your jackets all the time?"

One of Brittany's shoulders bounce and she bites her upper lip. "Just your warmth."

"That's all?" Santana snorts in disbelief.

"Well as much as I'd like to spread your legs right now and write a poem with my tongue," She pinches her lips together, "I accept its not gonna happen."

"Has talking like that actually gotten you into a girl's underwear?" Santana asks curiously, her eyes intensely focused on Brittany's wandering blue ones.

"Well it was a tight squeeze but thank god she was wearing grandma panties," Brittany jokes, receiving a hint of a chuckle from Santana. "I never said one word to the girl's I fucked, it was easier that way. If we didn't speak and get to know each other than at least she wouldn't feel bad about enjoying sex with another girl," Brittany explains in such a way that makes Santana wonder if Brittany is trying to get a point across to the brunette like that jock earlier today.

Santana enquires further. "Wouldn't that have made the sex just meaningless and unenjoyable?"

Brittany's eyes finally meet the brunette's and her lips twitch before answering. "Meaningless? Yes. But in a way it was enjoyable not having to love someone to be able to touch them."

Santana's eyebrows furrow, her mind swirling with more questions but no courage to continue. As much as Santana believes that all Brittany wants is sex, she also can't understand how the blonde can make meaningless sex sound so enticingly poetic.

Brittany has tried so hard not to read into Santana's expressions and the true meanings beneath her smiles. This smile in particular throws the blonde, because Brittany swears she just said something about fucking girl's that she thought for sure would turn Santana off.

Santana isn't a Virgin Mary though; she's the one who hooks up with boys until they cum, then kicks them out. She's just a huge tease.

"What about boys?"

Brittany rests her cheek on the table, her eyes still on Santana's. "I feel like I'm in fucking therapy."

"Fine you can ask me a question…after you answer my last one…" Santana states boldly, with a smirk on her lips.

"Jesus, okay," she sits up again and leans further down her chair to get comfortable. "Boys aren't half the orgasm provider girls are."

Santana purses her lips. "Is that it?"

"Santana you're not very subtle in trying to find out every single fucking thing about me," Brittany answers with a dominant smirk of her own. Brittany is really good at making Santana falter even when she's on a roll and feels as though she's the powerful one. The brunette thinks that Brittany should be aware of her intentions but that would have to make Santana aware of Brittany's intentions – which are to fuck and most likely retreat.

"Neither are you," Santana retorts the only thing that she can really hold against Brittany, "with the fact all you want from me is –"

"That isn't actually all I want," Brittany interjects. "You know I also would like to sit here and stare at you."

"That's creepy," Santana says, blankly staring at the blonde.

"Almost as creepy as someone constantly showing up at your house asking you questions," Brittany retorts powerfully. Santana is silenced once again, her lips sinking inside her mouth as she struggles to continue the conversation.

"I have something to confess," Santana states suddenly, her voice sharp.

"Me too," Brittany replies surely, nodding incessantly.

"I want to tell you first," Santana commands.

"Fuck off, you've asked me all these questions I want to tell you first," Brittany curses, causing Santana to be thrown off for a second. "I'm willing to be your friend…"

"I asked your Uncle about you…" Santana blurts out, overlapping Brittany's voice. She forgets her own confession because of Brittany's words. "Really?" She asks hopeful.

By the look on the blonde's face, she shouldn't be hopeful at all. "What did he tell you?"

"N-nothing personal, I swear."

Brittany is too tired to even worry about the potential of Santana finding out about her past. She can't even find the strength to send Santana more than a hardened look. It is enough to intimidate the brunette however, so Brittany relaxes a little.

"I –"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Brittany interrupts.

"We a-are friends though right?" Santana asks.

"Yes," Brittany stands and picks up her half-drunken milkshake, "I just don't think you'll enjoy my friendship much."

Santana clenches her jaw and stands up, her eyes piercing the blonde's. "Stop acting so tough…" She orders, gaining her confidence back.

Brittany steps forward, slurping on her straw then throwing it in the trash can near them without looking. It misses and bounces onto the floor. "Stop acting so desperate," Brittany retorts, reaching up to tug the jacket off Santana. The brunette allows the jacket to be taken off her, too caught up in Brittany's eyes to even flinch – not even when Brittany's thumbs slide down her wrists.

Brittany's eyes flicker past Santana to a security guard giving her a warning look. He points directly to the milkshake cup and Brittany smirks, grabbing one of Santana's wrists and dragging her to the exit of the mall.

It is a stupid thing to run away from, but Brittany hates being in a seriously overwhelming situation for too long.

"What are you doing?" Santana squeals as they come to a stop in front of a brick wall in the car park.

Brittany doesn't answer, she just lets Santana's wrist go and grabs out another cigarette from her pocket. In the run out of the mall Brittany's aviators had fallen back in front of her eyes. The blonde places her hood on and attempts to light the cigarette with the wind continuously blowing the flame out. Santana watches the blonde struggle and decides to step forward, blocking the wind out with her hands cupped around the lighter and cigarette.

She stares at her reflection in Brittany's glasses, but doesn't believe the blonde is staring at her because the cigarette still hasn't lit. Santana grabs each side of the jacket and pulls it up, effectively shielding them both from the wind. It's dark but Brittany's glasses are still visible. Santana desperately wants to take them off…

Brittany is indeed staring straight into Santana's brown eyes while she continuously flicks her thumb against the lighter. Being this close to the brunette once again is causing her fingers to tremble and the wind is no help.

The cigarette finally burns and Santana gulps, stepping back and letting go of the jacket. She isn't even mad at Brittany for taking back the jacket and wearing it outside while she freezes. It does belong to her.

Santana turns on her heels and walks towards Brittany's Jeep, hoping the blonde will follow and allow her to sit in the car while she smokes outside. Brittany presses the unlock button on the key and Santana jumps straight in the passenger side.

"You want a smoke?" Brittany offers, realising she doesn't even know if Santana is a smoker or not.

Santana shakes her head, wishing that Brittany would just close the passenger door. But the blonde is resting her hand against it, keeping it open, effectively bringing the cold in. Santana looks up to the blonde's face and watches Brittany's thin, pink lips envelop the orange end of the cigarette. She bites her lip and reaches upwards, grabbing Brittany's glasses and placing them on her own face.

The blonde just smirks, chuckling a little at how big they look on Santana's face.

"You're fun," she says unintentionally. Brittany's smirk disappears and she turns her head, throwing the cigarette on the ground. She slams the door shut and rounds the Jeep to hop in the driver's seat.

"Thank you," Santana says quietly, a small smile playing at her lips. She's enjoying the friendship so far, just not being close to Brittany because she doesn't feel like the blonde can control herself. The last thing she wants is Brittany thinking she can have Santana, which is why she doesn't stay in close proximity to Brittany for too long.

"You really need to invest in some jackets," Brittany states monotonously. She turns down a few streets and for a second, thinks she hears a little giggle from the brunette, but brushes it off and stops the car in front of her house.

"Do you want to come in?" She asks in a low, suggestive voice. It is unintentional of course. Santana squirms in her seat but nods at the same time because she really can't think straight when Brittany is looking at her that way (her eyes half lidded, with the blue still having the ability to make her weak and tongue darting out in slow motion). She decides to take the lead and step out of the car, with Brittany following quickly behind her. They reach the door and Brittany unlocks it, walking straight to the kitchen to create a fair distance between her and Santana.

There's no doubt in her mind that she won't be able to control herself around Santana now they're alone in an empty house (if not physically then verbally). "Where's your uncle?"

"He's still at work."

"Cool," Santana answers lamely. She takes a seat on the stool in front of the breakfast bar, hoping that Brittany will sit opposite her so she can possibly ask her some more questions. A minute passes before Brittany finally sits down. She offers Santana a drink but the brunette shakes her head.

"I'd rather just get to know you," she says timidly, trying to show at least a bit of confidence in her voice.

Brittany pulls out a cigarette from her pocket and lights it. She blows out the smoke and shrugs. "Still! Why?"

"I just like knowing who I'm friends with…"

"We're not –" Brittany stops herself, remembering their earlier conversation in which their friendship was confirmed. "Just because we're friends doesn't mean we have to know everything about each other."

"I know it takes time, but you're really confusing me and I'd just like to figure out why," Santana replies innocently.

"And you think knowing why I am the way I am will help you?" Brittany asks, raising an eyebrow in question. "Maybe your confusion has nothing to do with _me _Santana, maybe you just like including me in everything," she adds softly. She takes a long drag of her cigarette, waiting for the brunette to answer. Santana seems stuck at a crossroads though. The look on her face tells Brittany that she's trying so hard to understand her but not entirely sure if she should keep questioning.

"Okay," the brunette finally says through lengthy breath, "I don't have to know your past or why you are you. I should accept it," she shrugs, "but one thing I can't accept is you questioning my sexuality twenty four seven and kissing my neck when I don't want you too."

Santana sounds a little more confident this time. Brittany realises that they're both in the wrong. She's never met another person that she's wanted to be around but at the same time can't stand. There are people that ride into your life on a feather, simply and plainly. They don't grab your attention and you don't grab there's because there is nothing special about your encounters and conversations.

Then there is Santana.

"You don't have to say anything Brittany," Santana smiles sadly, "I just want you to understand me because I'm letting you."

Brittany's eyes are slightly squinted as she puts the cigarette to her lips, inhales slowly and exhales. She watches Santana watch her, because there is really nothing more pathetic in the world than seeing someone so raw when they're around you, so fake around their friends, so vein around their parents, so ashamed of themselves around boys and so caught up in a desperate curiosity.

Parts of Santana remind Brittany of her former self.

Brittany grabs a bowl, butts the cigarette out in it and leans forward on her arms, staring directly into Santana's vulnerable eyes. "Have you grown so sure of yourself that you can't recognize what attraction and lust is? Can you not admit to yourself that nothing about me compels you to lose control?"

Santana's eyes are starting to water, probably from staring too long and hard. Surely the blonde isn't causing her to cry. Santana realises that all they keep doing is going back and forth; an emotional tennis match of sorts. She can't understand the blonde and why she won't be fucking open in the slightest. She really wants to know why there are constant barriers around Brittany, keeping Santana and everyone else out.

At the same time everything the blonde says stays with Santana, sinks into her skin and travels along her veins to her brain. It frustrates her to no end, causing her to jump to her feet and head towards the door without a word.

Brittany automatically tails Santana, grabbing her hand before she can reach the front door. "Why are you running?" Brittany questions.

Santana shakes her head and tries to pull her hand away. Brittany's grip is too strong though and she manages to turn Santana around to face her.

"I'm right," Brittany whispers.

Santana shakes her head and steps back against the door, her eyes darting around Brittany and trying hard to never land on hers. "Wrong," Santana says in a hoarse voice.

Brittany lets Santana's hand go; hoping she won't immediately run off. Santana is still, her eyes to the floor and her breathing ragged. "Tell me," Brittany whispers, sliding her fingers around Santana's hips, "tell me how you want me to touch you…"

"No," Santana's voice is strained.

"Tell me where I can touch you," Brittany says breathlessly, leaning forward when Santana finally looks up at her. Santana's eyes close as Brittany's lips brush against hers momentarily before her tongue darts out and Brittany licks Santana's upper lip.

Santana groans loudly, her mouth parted and burning after the touch of Brittany's tongue. She can't handle this, this closeness and arousal and pleasure and lust. Brittany was right…but she can't admit it. She can't admit anything yet, she just wants to feel.

She grabs Brittany's right hand and places it between her legs, pressing the blonde's slender fingers against her underwear, right above Santana's clit. Santana growls, her back arching off the door and Brittany's lips grazing her cheek. Brittany lets go of Santana's hip and presses her palm against the door level with the brunette's shoulder.

The blonde's eyes flutter open and shut at the warm air Santana's sex is giving to her fingers as they press against the wetness.

Santana doesn't stop working Brittany's hand against her sex. She specifically grabs two fingers and rubs them vigorously against her clit. "Ahhhh," Santana whines. The pent up frustration is enough to make her wetness drip down her thigh.

Brittany's eyebrows are furrowed as she focuses on Santana's face. After a while she feels uncomfortable, extremely overwhelmed and uncomfortable. She desperately wants Santana to let go of her hand; she wants to stop and kiss the fuck out of Santana's mouth.

She wants to own her lips. She wants just one proper kiss…

"Fuck!" Brittany gasps as the pain on her cheek stings through her body. She even feels something run out of her nose. What the fuck? She wonders. She looks towards Santana and notices the brunette frozen in shock, her hand over her mouth.

Brittany turns around, her fingers brushing under her nose and collecting blood. She sits on the second step of the staircase and pulls her t-shirt off after hanging her jacket on the railing, pressing the old shirt against her nose.

"Y-you were about to k-k-kiss me," Santana mutters, her voice trembling.

Brittany wipes the shirt under her nose once more then folds it in her hands. "I was also about to make you cum."

"Fuck," Santana spits, mostly annoyed at herself. The blonde exhales a deep breath and leans back against the staircase, eyeing Santana's fearful expression. "I'm sorry about your nose," the brunette rushes out, turning around in a hurry and disappearing out of the house.

Brittany is in complete astonishment. One half of her is completely horny because Santana actually initiated touching. The other half hates herself for going in to kiss Santana because the brunette clearly isn't interested in anything remotely romantic…

Neither is Brittany; all she wants it to see Santana's naked body and feel it against hers. But kissing is the way to get there isn't it? Why did Santana allow Brittany's fingers against her pussy but avoid the kiss?

X

It was becoming too real, Santana thinks. She can't understand why she finally let go and gave in to Brittany. Brittany had kisses her neck, tongue and teeth, the other day and she managed to leave. Today Brittany acted different though. She acted like somebody Santana would like to be around a lot. She acted annoying, like a friend should, caring like a friend should and bold like a friend should.

The kiss though, well, the almost kiss. It was too much. Santana's fingers had curled halfway into her palm, causing her knuckles to make contact with Brittany's nose. She felt horrible, still does. She wants to apologize again and again, but being near Brittany right now is not an option.

Santana wonders what the look Brittany gave her meant before she leaned forward to kiss her. She wonders a lot, but doesn't dare return to Brittany's to reveal them.

X

It was becoming too real, Brittany thinks. She's still on the stairs, the blood around her nose and mouth having dried. She felt her cheek before and its swelling (a bruise will show up tomorrow). Her t-shirt is soiled, the deep red could pass as a colour pattern on the shirt, but Brittany never wears things like that. Her Uncle might suspect something.

She grinds her teeth together as she thinks about Santana. Brittany can't deal with the fact that the brunette lives next door yet they can't have a stable relationship or even a fucking friendship.

The front door opens and Kurt gasps as he witnesses his niece on the stairs, smiling through the blood painted on her teeth. "Don't tell me you're earning money in a fight club," he says worriedly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Brittany releases a sharp laugh, honouring her Uncle's attempt at another joke. At least Santana isn't here to hear it like the rap video joke.

"The next door neighbour actually punched me," Brittany narrows her eyes, "I think she was actually meant to slap me but we were in heat so things got a little out of control."

Kurt squints, side eyeing the girl carefully. "When you say in heat…do you mean literally squished in the oven fighting or sexually?"

"Sexually," Brittany answers loudly, as though it's obvious.

"Well sorry," Kurt raises his hands in innocence, "but you're a very passionate person Brittany and I'm guessing she is too by the amount of sass she has. So it's no surprise you two butted heads," he smirks a little, "or fannies."

"Oh my god – " Brittany stands up abruptly, " – you know I wish there was some fucking person I could talk to in this world that doesn't make me feel completely stupid, or l-like an asshole!"

"Get a job as a barista then you can talk to strangers about how fucked your life is and how ungrateful you are!" Kurt offers powerfully. Brittany's taken aback, she has no idea where the hell this is coming from. She stares at Kurt with wide eyes until the man waves his hand and helps her to her feet. "I'm just kidding," he shrugs, "well not really. Your life was fucked up and you are a little ungrateful, but helpful at the same time."

Brittany walks towards the bathroom and hands the shirt to her Uncle to put in the washing machine. "What has this got to do with Santana?"

"Well you're obviously not happy with anyone because you don't allow yourself to be…"

"I was going to kiss her though! Then she punched me and ran off," Brittany explains, swinging her arms in the air manically.

"I've never seen you like this," Kurt observes closely, his eyes fearful and top lip curled like he's a little freaked out, maybe even disgusted. He turns the washing machine on and leans against it.

Brittany watches her Uncle for a moment before smirking and turning to face the mirror. "You shouldn't put your ass against that thing."

Kurt immediately jumps forward. "Very funny Britt-Britt," he says in a sickeningly sweet voice before walking out. Brittany turns the tap on and cups water in her hands before splashing her face. The blood barely disappears because it's so dry, so Brittany grabs a face towel, wets it and rubs as hard as she can, careful not to press hard against her upper cheek, under her puffy eye.

When the blood is mostly gone from her skin, Brittany throws the towel in the washing machine as well and heads upstairs to her room. Brittany grabs her black jacket on the way, smelling it and sighing in relief when there is no more distinct dad smell; just Santana's body spray and perfume.

* * *

**a/n: **Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you can!**  
**p.s What do you guys think the Brittana shocker is? I think they're going to swap universes with Doccubus and have an actual story line focused around their feelings and amazing sex scenes.(That's what I hope anyway, I mean it's plausible right?)


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